


strange love

by Incadence



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: 3 Sentence fics, Angst, Baker!Taehyung, Crack, Embarrassment Kink, Fluff, Jenga kiss, M/M, Morning Sex, Personal trainer!Jeongguk, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sugar Daddy, Tutor!Yoongi, Unhealthy Relationships, platonic vmin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:05:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 31,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5734129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incadence/pseuds/Incadence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drabbles written on my <a href="http://maknaie.tumblr.com/">writing blog</a> from december 2014 - present. mixed ratings and pairings, primarily requests. feel free to send me some! Tags updated with each post.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. early mornings - yoonmin

**Author's Note:**

> this is a long time coming. i've been writing drabbles for a year before im finally fINALLY posting them to ao3 sorry.  
> also an anon asked hehe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: nc-17  
> summary: yoonmin morning sex

Yoongi loved sex.

I mean, who didn’t? Pleasure was a delicious thing, and Yoongi thrived on it. It was lips and teeth against skin, the sharp bucking of hips, and tongues, sinful and delicious, dipping against his collarbone and red against his cock.

Yoongi didn’t mind casual sex; it was easy enough to find these days, pretty people willing to fuck him at the slight curl of his lips. It felt good, and it was great stress relief. Yoongi loved it.

Well, that was before Jimin.

Fucking Jimin was something else. And with him gasping and writhing under him, hands grasping at his hair, Yoongi wondered how he ever liked casual sex, when he could have had _this_. Fucking Jimin was addictive, and he really was beautiful, a stunning masterpiece, a canvas for Yoongi to paint.

Everything about Jimin was breathtaking, from the blooming red of his lips, to the milky white expanse of his neck, and the slight quivers he makes when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against them. From the broad muscle on his arms, how they flex when he grasps at Yoongi’s shoulders right before he comes, to the dip of his stomach, hard and firm under Yoongi’s fingers. Mesmerising was the curve of his hipbones, and the way they flush red when Yoongi bites them. Beautiful was the hard, firm line of his cock, and the harsh moans he makes when Yoongi dips his tongue against it.

Yoongi finds that the more he gets to taste Jimin, gets to run that tongue against those pretty lips of his, the more he can’t seem to get enough. Sometimes, with Jimin twisting beneath him, peeking up through his eyelashes, Yoongi thinks that he’s made a mistake.

A dangerously, beautiful mistake.

Truth be told, this wasn’t exactly love, but it wasn’t exactly just pleasure either, because Yoongi wanted Jimin, just Jimin.

They had sex a lot. Quick and dirty handjobs before shows, harsh and fast with Jimin’s teeth against Yoongi’s shoulder. Slow fucks at midnight, gentle hands and lips and tongues. Teasing nips right before bed, Jimin’s chin on his shoulder as he drags his fingers down Yoongi’s cock. Harsh grinding in the shower, blowjobs against the kitchen counter, rutting against the door of Yoongi’s room-

The list goes on. But Yoongi’s favourite would have to be slow, hazy morning fucks.

Yoongi used to wake up to the slanting of sunlight on his face, but today he wakes up the feel of Jimin’s lips on his neck, leaving a trail of soft biting kisses down to his collarbone.

He relishes in this, basking in Jimin’s sweet affection. Warm hands curve against his cheek, followed by a wet hint of tongue against his jaw. And then a sharp bite against his lips, eliciting a breathy gasp from Yoongi.

“Shh.” Jimin murmurs, fingers trailing down Yoongi’s neck. “They’re still asleep.”

Yoongi doesn’t open his eyes, merely shifting slightly as Jimin’s slides a hand under his shirt, fingers tracing lazy patterns against his stomach. It’s pretty relaxing and Yoongi can feel himself fall back into the hazy blanket of sleep. But then he feels Jimin move next to him, and a hand trails down to-

Oh.

Yoongi moans, and bucks up into Jimin’s hands.

“Shhh.” Jimin’s lips graze his ear as his pumps Yoongi’s cock, teasingly slow. “They can hear us.” And, fuck if Yoongi is honest with himself, that turned him on even more. Jimin was his. His to mark, his to kiss, his to fuck. And everyone should know that.

But then Jimin’s hand stills, and Yoongi grunts, hips bucking up, but Jimin’s hands don’t move again. He hears Jimin huff a laugh against his shoulder. Fucker.

“You little shit I swear to god-“Yoongi hisses. But then Jimin is crawling over Yoongi, shucking his shirt off, before running his hands teasingly up Yoongi’s shirt, pressing biting kisses against his chest. That effectively shuts him up.

Shirt crinkled around his shoulders, Yoongi gasps, back arching to meet Jimin’s lips. His tongue trails down his chest, down to his stomach, and then moving up to nip at his shoulder.

Yoongi’s grasps at Jimin’s hair, because he’s still achingly hard and Jimin is doing nothing about it. With a sharp tug at his hair, he drags Jimin’s head back, and grinds harshly against him, bucking up to meet the hard line of Jimin’s cock.  

Jimin chuckles. “Someone’s impatient.” He gasps. Yoongi doesn’t reply, instead mouths at Jimin’s neck, causing him to shiver. Yoongi likes to tease Jimin with the taste of control, but now he’s taking it all back now.

Yoongi harshly shucks down both their boxers, and grasps their cocks in one fluid movement. Jimin moans, loud and clear. Yoongi smirks. What did he say about being quiet earlier?

Jimin thrusts into Yoongi’s hand, cocks rubbing, causing delicious friction and it’s almost too much. He lets out sharp, short needy gasps with every thrust, eyes snapped shut. It’s fast, and wet and a little sloppy. And Yoongi loves every second of it.

Jimin comes first, back arching beautifully, neck bent back in a drawn out moan. Yoongi pumps him through the orgasm, watching the way as Jimin’s thighs start to shake against his, fingers tightening against his shoulders.

Yoongi comes right after, he bites into Jimin’s shoulder, fingers scrabbling at Jimin’s back as it hits, making him writhe and twist against the bed sheets.

Afterwards, Jimin pokes his nose into the crook of Yoongi’s neck and rests a hand against his stomach. He gives a sleepy dazed yawn, before cuddling against Yoongi’s chest. It’s kind of wet, sticky and a little hot, but Yoongi merely curves a hand around Jimin’s neck, and nuzzles into the warm curve of his shoulder.

In the next room, Jeongkook is pretty sure he’s scarred for life. 


	2. concentrate - yoonmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg   
> summary: yoongi's just trying to tutor jimin, but he keeps getting distracted

It’s not like Jimin doesn't  _try_  to concentrate.

It’s just no matter how hard he tries, the numbers and words blur togetther into a big, dizzy mess of nothing, and trying to concentrate is like trying to grasp at falling droplets of water; the more he tries, the more he fails, slipping through his fingers, eyes blinking hazily as his mind wanders.

It also doesn’t help that Min Yoongi has his knee pressed against his, and leans down just enough for Jimin to see the milky curve of his shoulder, and smell the barest hint of cologne clinging to his skin. Sharp, and intoxicating.

“Hey.” Yoongi says. “Are you listening?” He turns to Jimin with a frown, and Jimin watches the movement, the way his lips, red and soft curl downwards. They’re a bit chapped. Jimin notes and wonders, just quickly what it would be like to swipe his tongue against it, leaving them wet and glistening and shiny.

Jimin jerks. “Uh.” he says intelligently at Yoongi’s raised eyebrow.

“Look, brat.” Yoongi sighs. “I didn’t come all this way, for you to zone out.” He elbows Jimin in the ribs which earns him a startled yelp.

“Yes, hyung.” Jimin mumbles.

Yoongi merely shakes his head and leans down to scribble something, hands splayed across the worksheet. He starts talking, but Jimin isn’t really listening, instead his eyes trace the sharp jut of his knuckle down to the smooth, elegant curve of Yoongi’s fingers, long and thin and beautiful. Jimin wonders if Yoongi plays the piano, his fingers would look breathtaking, curved over the keys, flitting over them. He wonders what else Yoongi’s fingers would look nice against.

Yoongi’s fingers are sharp, but Jimin thinks they’ll look nice against his hands, wonders if the skin on his palm would be soft or smooth or hard when he holds them. Jimin wonders what it would feel like to have those fingers card through his hair, gentle and affectionate, or what it would feel like for him to curl his fingers harshly against his chin, tugging him close, leaning down and scraping his teeth against-

“Hey.” A finger pokes at Jimin’s cheek. Jimin blinks. “Concentrate.”

“Ow.” Jimin pouts rubbing his cheek. “Okay, okay.” He says staring down at the paper, not even sure what he was supposed to be learning.

When Yoongi leans down again, Jimin can see the jut of his shoulder, peeking through the collar of his shirt. When Yoongi hunches forward, Jimin watches the way his skin stretches over the sharp indent of his collarbones, the perfect width for Jimin to sink his teeth into.

Yoongi’s skin is especially nice, Jimin thinks to himself, scribbling random gibberish onto the equation Yoongi told him to do. Pale, but not like the sickly, pasty pale of dumplings, but creamy, and milky like whipped cream or warm milk. It would probably flush red if Jimin was to suck a mark onto his neck, startlingly dark and obvious. If Jimin was to splay his fingers against his shoulders, and press down, hard,he could probably leave bruises. A stark contrast against his white skin. It would be hard to hide.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi sounds annoyed, finger pointing down at whatever random shit Jimin had scribbled down.

Jimin doesn’t say anything. He watches the way Yoongi’s fingers tap against the table, annoyed, and wonders what Yoongi’s fingers would feel like splayed across his back. Would they be harsh and rough or gentle and soft? Would they leave glaring marks, would Yoongi be possesive? Would they tug at his hair while Jimin moans? Would they dig into his hips when he thrusts? Jimin wonders what those fingers would feel like spreading his thighs open, flitting past his hips, wrapping around his-

“Jimin.” Yoongi huffs, completely breaking his train of thought.

Jimin blinks hazily, focusing on the sound of his name against Yoongi’s tongue. Too sharp, and annoyed, a short huff. He wonders how Yoongi would moan his name, breathy and desperate, or would it be a growl, harsh and possessive? Jimin wonders what Yoongi would look like when he comes. It would be beautiful, definitely. Would his back arch? Gasping as Jimin touches him, would he writhe? Would he moan wildly? Would he-

“Jimin!” He feels a hand shake his shoulder, the skin burns where they touch. 

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Jimin says, standing so abruptly that pencils skitter across the table and fall to the floor.

“Okay, but hurry up.” Yoongi says, but Jimin doesn’t hear it because he’s already scrambling towards at the bathroom.

“Weird kid.” Yoongi mutters to himself. 


	3. i love you more (than i could scream) - yoonmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: a lot of words, little words, or no words. none are needed.

It’s funny how different Yoongi and Jimin are, yet they fit together so perfectly.  Two sides, of the very same coin.

Jimin is all about words, tumbling out like a broken faucet, ideas, and thoughts and things that can easily be lost in each train of thought. Yoongi is about little words, saved for when he does want to speak, letting the words crash onto the page into biting lyrics. Jimin is bright, Yoongi is deliciously dark. Jimin wakes up early, Yoongi naps like a cat.

They should be parallel, two lines that never touch, never understand.

They’re not though, and when lines crash, an understanding blooms, one that should not even exist in the first place.

A lot of words, little words or no words. None are needed.

There’s times when the ache of his muscle starts to burn from the  inside out, and Yoongi slumps against the wall, breath coming out in harsh heaves. The bitter burn making him wonder if he’s good enough. Needing to be better, harder, faster.

Jimin, a smile through sweaty bangs. The slight grin as he hands over a drink bottle.

Yoongi’s lips curl with a hint of a smile.

_Hwaiting!_

Yoongi sips from the bottle. _Thank you._

And Jimin is turning away as the music starts up again.

-  
Sleep seems like such an unnecessary thing when there are things to be written, his eyelids betraying him as his pen skitters across the page. Mind reeling and pounding, but body resisting.

He doesn’t notice Jimin is in the room with him, until he feels gentle fingers on his shoulder.

Yoongi leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed.

“Yoongi.” Jimin sighs. _I’m worried about you._

Yoongi eyes blink up at Jimin sleepily. _I know._

They end up curled against the ratty sofa pushed to the corner of the studio, pen falling from Yoongi’s fingers to wrap around Jimin’s steady frame.

Jimin burrows his face into the curve of Yoongi’s shoulder. _I like this._

Yoongi runs hands down the expanse of Jimin’s back. _Good night._

-

They can hear the fans, the muffled screaming pounding in their ears.

Yoongi’s fingers tremble against his side, moving up to adjust his mic for the 10th time. His palms are sweaty, and even though there’s the slightest pump of adrenaline through his veins, exciting and vibrating. There’s still fear, anxiety invading like always.

Yoongi exhales when he feels fingers thread through his, and turns around to meet a smiling Jimin.

_We’re here with you._

Yoongi smiles when Jimin lets go and they open themselves to a wave of screaming fans, and music heady enough to drown in.

-

The drive back to the dorm is silent, exhaustion creeping into their bodies. Yoongi’s staring at the inky black of the night through the window, hands cradled to his cheek. He shifts when Jimin moves closer, inhaling the sharp warmth of the boy next to him.

They’re too tired to talk, so they don’t.

Jimin rests his head against Yoongi’s shoulder, the slightest graze of lips against his neck.

_We did good._

Yoongi rests a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, eyes slipping closed.

_I’m proud._

-

Yoongi wakes up to someone hovering his bed, for half a second he nearly flips the fuck out, until the the figure says, quietly. “Hyung?”

“Jimin?” Yoongi croaks, voice still husky from sleep. “What are you doing?”

Jimin hesitates, his figure swaying. “I…” _I miss home. I’m scared. I’m-_

Yoong merely shakes his head and opens his covers so Jimin can crawl in with him. He holds the boy close, until his shivers cease into sleepy snores.

_I’ve got you._

-

It’s all sorts of beautiful, waking up to a warm body against yours, arms tangled and legs intertwined. Waking up to eyelashes, curving down to chubby cheeks, and soft skin.

Yoongi stares dazed for a few seconds, before he tries to move. It’ll be embarrassing as hell if the members were to find them like this.

Jimin’s eyes flutter open.

“Hyung.” He breathes, arms tightening around him.

Yoongi’s breath catches in his throat at the sleepy smile Jimin sends him, soft and warm at the edges.

His fingers skim over the edges of Jimin’s lips.

There’s a question in Jimin’s eyes. Wide and unanswered. A heated burn, a flutter under his skin as Yoongi pulls away. He’s just sleepy and tired, and it doesn’t mean anything.

Jimin doesn’t let him go though, fingers curling around his wrists, pulling him back onto the bed.

“Jimin!” Yoongi gasps as they fall back together in a tangle of limbs.

Jimin doesn’t answer, and stares up at Yoongi, fingers trailing from his cheeks to graze his lips, a ghost of Yoongi’s actions before.

And clear as day, is the question hanging in the air.

_Can I kiss you?_

Yoongi wrinkles his nose. _Your breath stinks._

Jimin pouts, but Yoongi leans in to kiss him anyway.

-

Their fingers entangle during the ride back from the show.

Jimin blinks up at Yoongi, sleepy and content.

_I love you._

_Me too._


	4. My Flexible Tongue Movements Will Send Them to Hong Kong - yoonmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: jenga kiss

“Why.. me?” Yoongi exclaims, slowly trying to edge away from Jimin, as he makes his way towards him; having the _audacity_ to strip his stupid jacket off to reveal those broad shoulders of his while he’s at it. Little _Shit._

There’s heat rising to his face, insistent and embarrassing. And Yoongi prays to everything imaginable, that Jimin doesn’t notice the red blush encroaching his neck. But to be honest, aliens could probably see the harsh brush of red against his cheeks, a stark contrast against his milky white skin. And yes, Jimin is smirking at him, all lithe and smug. Yoongi hates his life.

And Yoongi would probably keep smooching his butt across the floor to freedom if not for the fact that Taehyung, the anti-cock blocker sits in the way, limbs butting into his very personal space, sniggering as Yoongi watches the impending doom that is Jimin’s lips. Red and pouty and looking _totally_ kissable. Yoongi tears his gaze away, yep he’s totally screwed.

There’s the loud, obnoxious sound of laughter, the annoying giggling of Hoseok and the gleeful screeching of Namjoon when Jimin leans down to cup Yoongi’s face.

“Hyung.” Jimin whines.

“If you’re going to do it, just do it already.” Yoongi grumbles, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.

“Hyuung.” Jimin whines again, tilting Yoongi’s face up.

And Yoongi is about to reply, but his breath catches in his throat at how close Jimin is, the faint red dusting his cheeks, the bow of his lips, the pretty curve of his eyes and-

“We kind of want to eat lunch?” Taehyung huffs behind him, pinching Yoongi in the stomach.

“Fine, fine!” Yoongi says, swatting Taehyung away.

Jimin grins, and begins to lean in as Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut. He’s so close. He can almost taste him on his tongue, the faint, familiar smell of Jimin, under the sweet tang of cologne.

“Yoongi?” Jimin says, softly.

There are loud whoops in the background, and obnoxious voices but it’s all dulled into a dizzy mess of white noise.  A gentle breath against his skin. A slight pressure of fingers around his cheek. And then Yoongi feels just the barest brush of lips against the corner of his mouth, before it’s gone and Jimin is leaning back with a small smile. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open.

“That.. was it?” Yoongi blurts out. 

“Well, what were you expecting?” Jimin grins, cheekily.

Before he can regret it, Yoongi curls his hand around Jimin’s shirt, pulling him close so Jimin falls down on him with a startled yelp. He hears Taehyung let out a squeak, scrambling away from the two.

“I am refusing to be part of this threesome!”  He screeches, making his way towards the door.

But Yoongi doesn’t hear it, his face is hot, unbearingly so, and Jimin is looking up at him through his eyelashes, a muted question on his lips. “If…” Yoongi clears his throat. “If you’re going to kiss me, at least do it properly.”

Something in Jimin’s expression changes, and his lips part. “Yoongi what are you-”

Yoongi doesn’t particularly care for what Jimin has to say, so he steals the words right out of Jimin’s  with a wide mouthed kiss. Jimin lets out a startled squeak, but his fingers curl around Yoongi’s shirt holding him there. It’s a little messy at first, a big desperate haze of moving mouths and breathless gasps. But then Yoongi cards his fingers through Jimin’s hair, and he completely melts, a content sigh breathed into Yoongi’s mouth. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” Jeongguk splutters making a run for the door, Taehyung at his heels with his hands glued to his face, muttering incoherent ramblings under his breath.

Namjoon is looking on very contemplatively, hands to his chin. “You know, Yoongi is actually exceptionally good with his tongue.”

Seokjin nods. “He’s very flexible I think.” He squints. “Jimin is actually a biter, huh.”

Hoseok rummages through his pockets with frantic hands. “Where the hell is my phone? Hey!” He points at the cameraman. “You better send this to me!”

“I… I don’t think this is appropriate.” The cameraman says meekly.

Yoongi doesn’t hear any of this though. He’s too busy listening to the slight whimpers Jimin makes.


	5. Kookies and Cream - taekook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: jeongguk is a personal trainer, but his cute neighbour just won't stop baking him treats

Jeongguk meets Taehyung in an explosion of colour. No, _literally._

He’s stepped in his new apartment for no more than two seconds, taken a whiff at the dodgy, inevitable smell of dusty floors and dead bugs; and barely has time to even put down the last box and attempt to unpack when the door gives an intense rattle, a flurry of knocks sounding in quick succession.

Jeongguk really doesn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe Jimin? Who said he was coming to unpack-but who was he kidding that ass has probably forgotten and is sleeping away. (He is) Or maybe a friendly neighbor or two.

But when Jeongguk swings the door open, what he doesn’t expect is six obnoxiously coloured cupcakes to be shoved in his face, dolloped with an obscene amount of bright green frosting and a mass of sprinkles. Jeongguk flinches away with a slight squeak. It’s not like he has anything against cupcakes per see- okay who was he kidding, yes he does. That… _thing_ is probably laden with calories and sugar and- oh god, his muscles are deflating at the sight of them.

Jeongguk is too busy eyeing the overly colourful monstrosities that he doesn’t even see the bearer of these little balls of sugar comas. But to be fair, his hair colour was so ridiculous that Jeongguk almost mistook him for a cupcake. It’s only when he gives a bright chirp of:  "Hello new neighbour!“ That Jeongguk snaps out of his aghast staring.

"Um,” Is the only thing Jeongguk manages to say, before he is steamrolled by another wave of words.

“Hello! I’m Taehyung! Did you just move here? Do you want cupcakes? You look young, are you in college?” He’s met with a cheerful smile and crinkled eyes. “We should be friends!” And with that the cupcakes are shoved into his hands.

“I…” Jeongguk starts, a little lost for words. “I don’t eat cupcakes…?”

Taehyung’s mouth drops open. “What do you mean, _you don’t eat cupcakes?”_ His lips jut out into a pout, eyebrows furrowing in genuine confusion.

Jeongguk scratches his head, staring down at the poofs of overflowing cream atop the cupcakes. “I’m a personal fitness trainer, this goes against everything I’ve ever learnt.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem particularly fazed by that though instead giving a pointed stare right at Jeongguk’s chest, fingers brought to his chin in a contemplative sigh. Jeongguk gives an uncomfortable shift under his gaze but Taehyung doesn’t seem deterred. “Hm.” Taehyung says. “That makes sense then!” The boxy smile appears. “That’s okay! I’ll add protein powder next time! That should cancel out the sugar right?”

“Uh,” Jeongguk says. “It doesn’t work like that.”

Taehyung’s smile only widens. “Don’t worry about it Honey Bunny, just take them! I put a lot of effort into my neighborly duties.” Taehyung finishes his sentence with a firm nod of his head. 

“My names Jeongguk.” Jeongguk says, taking a few hesitant steps back when Taehyung raises his arms as if to hug him, cupcake sandwich and all. “Um. It’s nice to meet you I guess.”

“I’ll see you around Jeongguk. Kook? Do you like cookies?” Taehyung says, jutting his face right into his personal space. 

Jeongguk jolts back.  "Nope,“ Is all he says, before he shuts the door right in his face.

"Nice meeting you Jeonggukiiiiiie!” Taehyung’s voice rings from behind the door, and Jeongguk can only shake his head.

What a weirdo.

Afterwards, He stares down at the mass of cupcakes glaring at him atop the kitchen table wondering what the hell he could do with them. After a few contemplative moments of staring, he figures he should eat at least one right? Wasting food is not cool.

 With a gentle hesitation, he takes a bright fluro-pink coloured cupcake to his lips, and gives a tentative bite.

Okay. 

_Okay._

It’s really, _really_ fucking amazing.

10 minutes and 4 cupcakes later, Jeongguk rolls off the couch with a soft groan. “Fuck my life,” Jeongguk mumbles, clutching his stomach.

And later, when he sprints to the gym and furiously works out, drenched in sweat and pain and tears, he curses Taehyung and his stupidly red hair, and cupcakes that taste like little balls of heaven and love and diabetes.

After that, Jeongguk vows to steer clear of that Taehyung. He’s come so goddamn far, all that training and hard work; he’s not going to let some crazy neighbor ruin this for him.

It really does not help that Taehyung keeps appearing everywhere; latching onto Jeongguk like some clingy red panda, and always, _always_ has a plate of freshly baked goods to shove into Jeongguk’s hands with a blinding grin and crinkled eyes.

“Good morning Jeonggukkie! I baked you something!” And Jeongguk finds a packet of cute love heart cookies, decorated with icing, shoved into his hands.

“Jeongguk are you back from the gym, you must be hungry!” And then _a whole freaking cheesecake_ is pushed into his arms.

“Kookie! I baked cookies. They’re white chocolate!” And Taehyung gives a smile, sweeter than the goeey mass of cookies that are pressed into his chest.

“No…” Jeongguk always tries to protest, albeit weakly. That is until Taehyung happily shoves a cookie into his mouth and Jeongguk succumbs to the heavenly crumbly explosion in his mouth, probably consuming all the calories he so painstakingly just burnt. “I hate you,” Jeongguk whines, three cookies later. And Taehyung only replies with a blindingly sweet smile. 

His chest hurts. Yeah. It’s probably the cookies.

-

The next time he catches up with Jimin for a workout session, he’s greeted with an excited “Have you met Tae yet!?”

Jeongguk doesn’t even bother to reply, and merely groans into his smoothie.

“Um.” Jimin frowns. “Not the reaction I was expecting but okay. Is he that bad?”

Jeongguk thinks about bright smiles, and eager greetings and the fluffy bundle of red hair. “It’s not that!” Jeongguk exclaims finally. He lifts his shirt and gives an indignant point at it. “Look at this!”

Jimin squints, giving an appreciative whistle. “I don’t see a difference?”

“What do you mean, this flab is Taehyung’s fault!” Jeongguk whines.

“Stop being a butt. Dude you’re fiiiiiiine,” Jimin huffs. “Huh, how much does he bake anyways?”

Jeongguk puffs out a sigh. “Every day? Sometimes every two days I don’t know.”

“Dude,” Jimin says. “ _Duuuuuude.”_

“What,” Jeongguk blinks.

“Taehyung never bakes that much, unless he’s stressed or something.” Jimin makes a face, before he whips out his phone and texts with rapid taps. “Oh,” He says after a while, and gives Jeongguk a look he doesn’t understand. “ _Ohhhhh.”_

“What,” Jeongguk repeats.

“Nothing!” Jimin says, voice suspiciously high, and Jeongguk’s about to ask again but Jimin slurps at his smoothie noisily which only makes Jeongguk roll his eyes and kick him in the shin.

-

It’s when Jeongguk nearly dies from a cupcake avalanche trying to reach the apples at the back of his shelf, that he decides enough is enough. This needs to stop.

Jeongguk bangs on Taehyung’s door with three sharp raps. It’s not long when the door opens, and a sleepy Taehyung emerges, shirt loose on his shoulders, hair a harried mess, and wait, was that flour smeared on his cheek? Probably. 

Taehyung blinks at him, groggy and soft before his eyes focus and his expression shifts. To be honest, It’s almost endearing how quickly Taehyung brightens at the sight of Jeongguk.

“Jeonggukkie!”

“Taehyung.” Jeongguk says slowly. “We need to talk.”

Taehyung tilts his head at that. “Okay? I haven’t cleaned up though so _ah…!_ ” Taehyung squeaks when Jeongguk pushes past him into the apartment. “Hey Jeongguk wait don’t go into the-”

“Oh my god.” Jeongguk exclaims weakly, halting to a complete stop. His mouth drops open when he observes the cluttering mass of mess sprawled across the kitchen and floor. It looks like a baking fairy came and ravaged the place. Dirty plates smeared with cream and batter were stacked up high, flour and baking powder littered every surface and everything smelled like cinnamon. It was worse than Jeongguk ever thought. 

“It’s…” Taehyung starts with a nervous laugh. “It’s kinda messy.”

Jeongguk whips around and grabs Taehyung by the shoulders. “Kinda? Tae, look, they taste good and all but this has to stop. I can’t eat anymore!”

Taehyung blinks at that, before his lips jut out into a pout and he mumbles something under his breath.

Jeongguk sighs. “What did you say?”

Taehyung stares down at the white flour explosion on the ground. “I said it’s your fault.”

Jeongguk’s mouth drops open. “What the fuck? _How_?”

“You…” Taehyung gaze flicks up to Jeongguk, eyes widening. “You stress me out!”

_“Huh?”_

Taehyung doesn’t seem to hear him though, and he pokes Jeongguk right in the chest. “With your stupid face, and after you come back from the gym and those _arms_. And… And you’re all _cool anime dude! A_ nd Jimin is also like Jeongguk this Jeongguk that, and the only time we talk is when I bake you things, and you probably _hate_ me but-”

“Woah woah _woah._ ” Jeongguk says, blinking helplessly. “I don’t, I mean, I-”

Taehyung frowns at him. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

Jeongguk drops his gaze to the floor. “I mean-” Taehyung looks at him expectantly, head tilted. “You…you don’t have to bake me things to talk to me you know.” He mumbles.

He can feel Taehyung grin as he nudges him. “Oh? My company’s sweeter eh?”

Jeongguk makes a face. “Actually you know what? I hate you and your stupid cookies.” But Taehyung’s smile only widens and Jeongguk finds it really is sweeter than anything Taehyung has ever baked. (Yes, including that chocolate lava cake.)


	6. you taste like summer (but talk like rain)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: m  
> summary: taekook body shots

Jeongguk is blissed out, the steady warmth of alcohol under his stomach, his limbs a stumbling mess across the couch when Taehyung suggests it.  

He can’t think straight, can only concentrate on the slight giggles of Taehyung next to him as he shifts, fingers slipping under his shirt, splaying across his stomach. 

Taehyung is clingy normally, even more so when he’s drunk. He’s affectionate and giggly, nosing gently against Jeongguk’s cheek. Jeongguk doesn’t do anything, doesn’t push him off because it feels good. The fire under his skin, the burn in his throat, the warm heat of Taehyung against him, and how his lips flush red when he takes another swing from the bottle.

Pretty.

 So of course when Taehyung suggests it, leaning in, breath sweet against his cheek, “Hey, do you wanna try body shots?” Jeongguk doesn’t think and all he can do is smile, slight and lazy.

In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea. This whole thing was probably a bad idea. But Taehyung was all about alcohol and bad ideas, and Jeongguk? Well, Jeongguk couldn’t ever really say no. Even if there was a morning class tomorrow, and he’ll probably be a completely fucked mess and hungover.

 But Jeongguk doesn’t think about that. No, not when Taehyung gently edges Jeongguk mouth open, thumb skimming against his lips, fingers cold to touch, wet against his lips. Jeongguk eyes flutter closed, mouth falling open. That is until Taehyung laughs, sweet and carefree and presses a lime into his mouth.

“What the hell?” Jeongguk says but it comes out more as “Mrgggh?” Which makes Taehyung giggle again, finger coming to smoosh Jeongguk’s mouth, but misses; ending up smooshing Jeongguk’s nose instead.

“Shh, shhh shhh,” Taehyung smiles, “don’t question it young padawan kay?”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow together and gives Taehyung a glare; but he just smiles undeterred and threads his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair, pulling back to expose his neck. Slowly, in one smooth and languid movement, Taehyung leans in, tongue licking a stripe down the expanse of his neck. Taehyung’s tongue is warm, overwhelmingly so, and Jeongguk arches, the heat in his stomach flaring. 

_“Reeelaaaax,”_ Taehyung drawls, when Jeongguk tenses as he sprinkles salt against his neck; some of it spilling down to scatter across his collarbones. “There, there,” Taehyung says leaning back to admire his handiwork. “So _pretty_ ,” The salt slightly stings his skin, and Jeongguk swallows, eyes fluttering.

Taehyung leans in, lips skimming across Jeongguk’s shoulders.  “You ready?” And all Jeongguk can do is swallow and nod.  Taehyung smiles. He tilts his head up and mouths against Jeongguk’s chin, dipping down to his neck, and then the wet heat of his mouth presses against his skin. Gently, and so, _so_  overwhelmingly slow, Taehyung’s tongue dips against his neck dragging up to lick up the salt. Jeongguk shivers under him, eyes squeezing shut. 

Taehyung smiles, teeth grazing against his skin, just briefly before he leans back and takes the shot. Jeongguk sighs when fingers cradle his cheek pulling him to meet Taehyung’s gaze, smiling wild and free and beautiful. He leans forward. 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, when Taehyung moves to straddle him. And before he can even react, Taehying is leaning in, fingers edging Jeongguk’s mouth open. Jeongguk exhales, quick and harsh, as Taehyung licks into his mouth. It’s hot and heady and completely overwhelming. He’s finding it hard to breathe. 

Jeongguk can only gasp and feel and feel. The soft roll of his tongue; the slight moans. Until, Jeongguk feels the slightest graze of teeth, and his eyes open to Taehyung sucking on the lime, before taking it out of his mouth; he meets Jeongguk’s gaze with a wild, sloppy grin, All glistening lips and perfect teeth.

“Wasn’t that fun?” Taehyung says, curling up against Jeongguk’s side, nosing against his cheek.

“Mm,” Jeongguk agrees. His mouth burns.

“Hey, hey,” Taehyung mumbles from Jeongguk’s shoulder. “Do you want to try something else?”

“Kay?” He’s already so far gone.

Taehyung moves to straddle him again, hands pressing against Jeongguk’s shoulders, effectively pushing him into to couch. Jeongguk smirks, soft and lazy. “Is this another drinking game?” He asks.

“Noooope,” Taehyung says gleefully. “Nope, nope nope. It’s a smoking game. Ever heard of shotgunning?”

Jeongguk blinks. “We don’t have weed though?”

Taehyung leans in, fingers reaching under Jeongguk’s chin, pulling his head up. “Exactly. Let’s shotgun-” He leans in, head tilting, breath hot against Jeongguk’s cheek, “-just without the smoke, kay?”

Jeongguk’s eyes flutter closed, and his lips spread into a smile. “You smartass,”

Taehyung doesn’t reply, and Jeongguk doesn’t get the chance to say anything more.


	7. slanted sun rays - vhope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: m  
> summary: vhope morning sex

Taehyung finds that the laziest moments are the happiest.

The gentle sigh of relief after a long day at work, tension oozing from his shoulders as he sinks into the couch, the messy tangle of fingers, soft and lazy under the warmth of the television, the mornings, blissful evenings, the silences and smiles.

And this.

The bed sheets are a tangled mess at their hips, sunlight casting shadows in all the crooks and curves that was their little island of mess. Blurry and sleepy, with the soft haziness of morning; Taehyung fingers find their way against smooth skin. A flutter of eyelashes, and a smile, wide and beautiful.

They don’t say anything. Too tired to talk. But they don’t need to, nothing needs to be said. Taehyung leans in and breathes everything against Hoseok’s neck and shoulders, littered with marks that say; I love you. I need you. I want you.

Like the gentle shove of waves, Hoseok responds, sweet and soft, a hand cradled against his cheek, a brush of lips against his ear, a laugh. Taehyung closes his eyes and falls, into sand colored skin and the calming waves of kisses, sprawling like lost sea shells.

The heat isn’t a harsh burn, not like last night, a fight of lips and teeth and flurry of hands and bruises dark and sweet like velvet. It’s not insistent, instead it’s more a blurry haze, a soft push and Taehyung shifts until their legs tangle, and arms slot together in between bed sheets and something else.

Hoseok’s hands find their way under Taehyung’s shirt, drawing senseless patterns against his ribs, and even now, even under the blanket familiarity his heart flutters against his chest, and Hoseok can’t help but laugh as Taehyung tangles himself in his shirt as it’s pushed over his head.

Hoseok can be rough sometimes, if the marks are any indication, but sometimes he can trace Taehyung’s body with such intricacy, dragging out the soft stirs of pleasure bit by bit, agonizingly slowly; it drives Taehyung insane. 

Right now, Hoseok doesn’t do anything but press kisses to his chest, eyes drinking in every inch. _You’re beautiful._ The kisses against ribs and skin, and the soft flutter of his heart. Against his neck and shoulders, and the slight jut of his hipbone, and up his chest, past his chin and breathing a sigh against his lips. And Taehyung tangles his hands in Hoseok’s hair and kisses like he misses and wants and needs. 

And when Hoseok rolls his hips to meet Taehyung’s it’s scarily familar yet different all the same. And pleasure tastes like spilled wine, and melted butter.

Hoseok swallows Taehyung moans with his own and it tastes sweeter than anything. They slide their pants off, kicking them off in between giggles and kisses. it’s easy, because they’ve done this before, tracing paths they’ve already explored, and Hoseok knows the places that will make Taehyung arch his neck back with a shaky whisper of his name, knows the roll of the hips and the span of his fingers, knows the taste of his skin and lips. 

Taehyung drags out his name against his neck, while Hoseok arches under his hands, malleable and smooth. It’s not fast. It’s not desecrate. It’s hazy, soft and a little blurry. Pleasure a mass of white noise, and lips a mess against skin. A gentle flurry of limbs; one wouldn’t know where one started or ended. Taehyung and Hoseok. _Taehyung and Hoseok._

Hoseok’s fingers are beautiful, and they drag the orgasm bit by bit, until Taehyung is a melted mess under him. A quick jut of hips, a smile, a flutter of eyelids and Taehyung is coming with the breathtaking arch of his neck, and Hoseok swallows his moans one by one. And later when Taehyung is perched at his thighs, pleasure muddling his mind into a mess of Taehyung and Taehyung and Taehyung; the bed sheets have already fallen to the ground, and their chests are already a sticky mess. But they find they don’t mind at all, and Taehyung rests his head against the arch of Hoseok’s shoulder, skin against skin, the bustle of the outside world forgotten. 

And yes, these are really some of the happiest times.


	8. call for a good time - vhope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: sex line operator au

Nobody can deny that Taehyung is a bit impulsive. Isn’t self control overrated anyways?

See that cupcake on the table? Does Taehyung ever consider the future consequences, of say a hungry and grumpy Yoongi and maybe a pair of headphones hurled at him? Nope. Oh look a new girl group. Does Taehyung think about the 1000 word essay due in two days and the inevitable all nighter he will have to take? Nah.

So let’s say Taehyung doesn’t make the best decisions.

So of course when an unsuspecting ad pops up in the corner while he’s procrastinating doing that essay, with bright red words flashing out a continuous array of _‘CALL FOR A GOOD TIME._ ’ Normal people would probably wrinkle their noses and click the ad away before some unsuspecting person hovering over them sees it. But Taehyung isn’t exactly normal, and there’s no unsuspecting person hovering over him so naturally he squints at the ad and pulls out his phone.

It’s not like he’s turned on or anything like that. Besides, he’s way too lazy anyways. His hand hurts from trying to test out how many words he could type per minute. So if you were to ask him why? Taehyung would gleefully reply with. “for the lols’ and if Jimin was anyway near, fist bump him and both start giggling like the mature college boys they are.

Anyways, back to the bad decision making.

In favour of the 'lols’ for preferences Taehyung selects the most ridiculous ones. "uhhhhh butt plugs!” Taehyung says before dissolving into a fit of giggles. The reply is a confused one, but nevertheless he is directed to a monotone voice of _please hold_ and boring elevator music.

Taehyung gets bored in a matter of minutes and goes on youtube to watch some cat videos while he waits, the music soon turning into background music, mingling with the soft meowing of a small kitten waddling towards the camera.

Being too engrossed with this fat cat burrowing furiously into boxes, Taehyung soon forgets the phone is even on, so when a smooth “Hello there…” sounds from the phone, Taehyung yelps just in time for the cat in the video to start screeching. Perfect. (Pun not intended)

“You okay there?” The voice sounds again and _holy SHIIIIT_. How can a voice sound so nice? No seriously, if honey was in vocal form it would literally sound like that.

“Uh yeah!” Taehyung says, voice perhaps a little strangled. How embarrassing, while he’s sounding like a dying cat, this guy sounds like what a gooey brownie would sound like if it could talk.

“Care to tell me your name babe?” Mm. If the voice was a blanket Taehyung would literally make himself a blanket burrito and never get out. It’s so soothing.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to register the question and instead asks. “Do you train for this?”

“What?”

“I mean, are there like phone sex Olympics or something? Because dude your voice is like freaking magical or something. You should be like one of those GPS people-” Taehyung rambles, hands waving around in wild circles. Because this is an important topic thank you very much.

Taehyung gets interrupted by a snort. And actually a very attractive snort okay. “I don’t…” short bursts of laughter sounds from the phone, bright and clear. “I mean thank you?” Another flurry of giggles. “Is this why you called? Do you still want-”

“Noooooo.” Taehyung says. “I was just curious, but wow your voice is so nice what. I wasn’t kidding about the GPS thing dude, follow your dreams, or directions whatever-”

Another laugh sounds, and it makes Taehyung’s insides feel like a gooey mess. “ I’ll consider it.”

“What’s your name anyways, magical voice man?” Taehyung asks.

“They call me J-hope.” The voice replies, amusement clear.

“Oh so you bring hope? For what? Orgasms?”

J-hope laughs. “Most likely. What’s your name?”

“Taehyung!” He replies instantly, because as we already know Taehyung doesn’t make good decisions, and telling his name to random phone sex operators with weird names is totally a thing he does.

 “Look…” Taehyung continues. “this is really weird but it’s like butt o-clock right now, and wow okay your voice is really soothing so can you like please sing me to sleep.” Taehyung does not know where that came from, but right after the ramble of words exits his mouth, he finds it’s actually a good idea indeed.

What he gets is more laughter. And Taehyung’s completely okay with that, if the weird butterfly attack in his stomach is any indication. Though, falling asleep to laughter would be very unnerving. “Um.. yes.. I mean as long as I get paid.” J-hope huffs in between short bursts of snorting.

Taehyung grabs his phone and launches himself into his bed. “I’m all toasty now, sing along!”

J-hope doesn’t reply at first and then quietly says. “I um only rap though.”

Taehyung blinks for a few seconds and then says. “That could work.”

Turns out falling asleep to something like’ _Explode and come out Swag”_ is really quite soothing indeed, and Taehyung finds himself nodding off in no time.

And maybe Taehyung calls again the next day, and the next after that. And maybe there’s less rapping and more something else, but nobody needs to know that. (Except his phone bill) 


	9. i'm going to punch you (with my mouth) - yoonseok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: yoongi hates chemistry, and he hates his chemistry tutor, hoseok even more. really.

Yoongi hates Hoseok. No really, he hates Hoseok.

And Yoongi really has the right to.

First of all, that stupid bundle of puppies has the audacity to look downright cheerful at the lazy hour of 5pm (perfect time for naps mind you), rocking up at the Min household with a wide smile and a chemistry textbook in hand. The first time that had happened, Yoongi had decided that he had seen the face of the devil. No one looks that happy while holding a chemistry textbook. No one.

Except Hoseok, the literal spawn of satan and sunshine.

“Yoongi!” Hoseok smiles, when Yoongi opens the door. His eyes crinkle into cute little crescents. It always distracts Yoongi, especially in that dazed post-nap. Yoongi hates those eye crinkles. "How are you?”

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “Shitty,” he says.

Hoseok seems undeterred, used to the rough grate of Yoongi, and his grin only gets wider.

“Oh Hoseok!” A voice chirps from behind Yoongi, and the door is pulled fully open. A round faced woman, with bright eyes and graying hair curling around her cheeks, ushers Hoseok in with utmost enthusiasm. “Ms Min!” Hoseok nods, grasping her hand.

“Right on time as usual,” she says, patting Hoseok on the shoulder. “Come in, come in. Want anything to drink or eat? I’ve got some-”

“Nope.” Yoongi says, breathing out a sigh.

“It’s okay Miss! We should probably start anyways. Yoongi does have a test soon.” Hoseok nods.

“Which I really do not give two shits about.” Yoongi says, shuffling towards his room, and with a harried smile and another slight duck of his head, Hoseok follows.

-

Yoongi does not know why he needs tutoring. Yoongi also does not know chemistry’s significance in his crap education. Put these two together and you have a grumpy cat Yoongi, and probably a lot of snapped pencils.

Oh, and did he mention he hated Hoseok?

And also this stupid godawful table that Yoongi has been using since the start of high school. When then it had fit perfectly for his short, gangly limbs, now it’s almost cramped, especially for two. And stupid smiley Hoseok; every time he  moves, their arms knock, and Yoongi can feel the press of his arm, warmth seeping from his skin.

It’s distracting. The muddy mass of chemistry equations also does not help. And Yoongi finds the numbers blurring together in front of him.

“Hey,” A warm huff of breath against his neck that makes Yoongi jolt.  "I hope you’re not falling asleep on me again.“

Yoongi’s heart races, like the jittery increase of kinetic energy as temperature rises. It’s probably just from the stress of shitty chemistry metaphors and not the close proximity of Hoseok’s face, and how easily he can see each eyelash sloping down to his cheeks. "Uh,” Yoongi blinks and then pulls away sharply.

Hoseok smiles, stupidly sweet. He gives a light tap to Yoongi’s forehead. “Concentrate,” before he leaning down to show him another equation. 

It pisses Yoongi off that Hoseok is actually good at this tutoring crap. Explaining with pictures and notes that Yoongi’s hatred filled chemistry brain is slowly starting to understand. What is the world coming to?

And okay, still, Hoseok sucks.

Because if not for his hand, all pretty and slender, pressing against the edge of the sheet as he scribbles, Yoongi would probably be a chemistry genius or something. But no, Yoongi’s gaze lingers from the dizzying equations to the pale curve of his knuckles under the white light of the lamp; the way they curl slightly every time he writes, and Yoongi wonders what they would feel against his skin, against his palm, against the smooth expanse of his shoulders, and cheek and hips and-

Yoongi jolts so sharply that his knees hits the table. Hoseok turns to look at him, head tilted like a lost puppy. “Hey, you okay?” And oh for god’s sake, he reaches and gently rubs his knee with those stupid pretty fingers of his. Yoongi swats him away with flailing hands and an indignant, dignified squeak. 

“Uh yeah.” Yoongi says with the calmest voice possible, despite the thundering of his heart, and the warmth curling around his knee where Hoseok’s fingers had just been. “Yes we should do more, chemistry equations, uh-”

“We’re doing ionic bonds now.” Hoseok raises an eyebrow, lips tilted upwards in amusement.

“Yeah whatever.”

Yoongi drags his gaze down to the paper. If he ignores the way Hoseok smells (sharp and sweet and uh yeah never mind) the press of his knee against his, and the way his neck curves as he leans down to write something, he’s all good. Really. Now time to focus on chemistry. Yep. 

Look, there’s Magnesium and Chlorine, Hydrochloric acid and-Yoongi looks up. His gaze falls on the slight swell of Hoseok’s lips as his eyebrows furrow in concentration. He doesn’t look away and  just for the briefest of seconds wonders what it would be to run his tongue along the red of his bottom lip.

“Fuck.” Yoongi hisses under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

Hoseok merely smiles. He’s been used to Yoongi’s cursing when chemistry is involved. “Hey, it’s okay. We can get through this.” How stupidly supportive of him. Yoongi hates it.

And yeah okay fine, Yoongi aces the test. Big deal.

He still hates everything.

-

“He’s just annoying you know! He’s stupidly cheerful all the time and really it’s pissing me off. Like what the fuck, how am I supposed to nap afterwards? It’s like he shoved a bundle of sunshine up my ass or something.” Yoongi rants to Namjoon between angry bites of his sandwich.

Namjoon merely nods along, half listening, half playing games on his phone.

“And don’t even get me started on his stupid face. He does that thing with lips, when he’s concentrating and he looks so dorky, and gross and it’s honestly really distracting,” Yoongi continues. “And how can anyone be so positive about chem man? He gets all bright and chirpy. It’s gross. ”

Namjoon looks up with an amused grin. "That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one breath dude.”

Yoongi breathes a sigh. “ I’m just ranting, sorry.”

"Ranting? Sounds more like you’ve got a crush…!” Namjoon teases, leaning forward and poking Yoongi in the ribs.

“What,” Yoongi blinks. “Did you hear anything I said?”

“Yep,” Namjoon smirks. “Oh he’s too pretty, oh those lips, oh he’s a good tutor, oh I want him to _take me_ while I recite chemistry pick up lines.”

Yoongi jabs a finger so hard into Namjoon’s shoulder that he falls in a mess of flailing limbs and a wild shriek. He deserves it anyway. Little shit. _Lying_ little shit. 

Because as if Yoongi has a crush? All he has for Hoseok is a bitter hatred. Yep. It rivals his disgust for chemistry. And okay, so maybe he does have half decent lips that are plump and kissable. But kissing is nothing. Yoongi would kiss everyone, it doesn’t matter.

Yoongi looks down at the mess of pained moans and flailing limbs that is Namjoon. Okay so maybe not _everyone._

-

That night Yoongi is teetering on the edges of sleep, when his eyes flash open and he sits up in wide realization.

Shit.

Okay so maybe he does have the teeniest, tiny crush on Hoseok.

It’s just a teeny one, so it doesn’t matter. Right?

-

Okay, so it’s maybe not a teeny crush but a giant, Kim Kardashian butt-sized crush that has been looming over his messy bed head for a while now.

And Yoongi doesn’t realize it until next week when he opens the door and Hoseok stands there beaming. All bright and beautiful. Yoongi blanches before slamming the door and dashing to his room, faster than a post-nap Yoongi could ever run.

Hoseok does come in later, with profuse apologies from his mother, peeking his head through Yoongi’s door with polite hesitance. “Yoongi?”

“Come in,” Yoongi says, staring at the table. He doesn’t lift his head when Hoseok comes in, nor turns to looks at him as he seats himself down next to him. “Sorry about before,” Yoongi mumbles.

“Figured it would happen one day,” Hoseok says, annoyingly nice as usual. “Don’t worry about it,” and Yoongi thinks he’s smiling, but he doesn’t dare look at him. After all, looking directly into the sun is dangerous.

Yoongi is silent as he stares resolutely at the questions Hoseok is explaining. Something rises in his chest, it’s not bile no, (though chemistry could make him vomit any day) something else, and Yoongi only realizes it’s a stupid blurt of words until it’s too late and the damage is done.

“I think we have chemistry!” Yoongi says, so quickly the words run together.

Hoseok lips tug into a smile. “What?”

Oh no.

“Do you have 11 protons? Cause you’re sodium fine!“ Yoongi continues.

Hoseok’s smile widens. "That was pretty good actually.”

Yoongi’s cheek burns red hot, and he ducks his head down. He regrets everything.  From the very discovery of chemistry, to the birth of this wretched life for giving him the chance to say those words. He hears Hoseok laugh, and flinches when he feels fingers reaching under his chin, pulling him up to meet Hoseok’s gaze. It surprises Yoongi that his face is completely serious. His lips part.

“I wish I was an Ion so I could form an exothermic bond with you. ” Hoseok says in all seriousness.

“I’m going to punch you.” Yoongi deadpans. 

And Yoongi does. With his mouth that is.

 


	10. your body is a canvas (decorate it) -taegi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: nc-17  
> summary: taegi embarrassment kink

Taehyung had always been beautiful. Always. From the wide grinning, smiles, to the gentle slopes of his fingers and neck and round bow of his lips. Everyone knows, from the fans to the stylists, Taehyung was indeed beautiful. But this? _This_ was something else entirely.

Braced on his knees, the pretty expanse of his back, sloping up to the round curve of his ass, hands braced against the headboard, a mess of harsh dizzying breaths, and all this, his, all under Yoongi’s very fingers.

_“Yoongi_.” Taehyung breathes. And Yoongi loves the way he melts under the skitters of his fingers, just trailing across his back. All soft and plaint and perfect. He’s not even anywhere near his cock, untouched. It gives Yoongi such a delicious sense of power. He’s the one who has Taehyung like this. Spread and needy.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Yoongi says, trailing his fingers across Taehuyng’s ribs, and then down to his cock. But he doesn’t touch, instead rubbing over the cock ring there. Once. Twice and Taehyung gives a sharp, frustrated moan, hips shaking under his fingers. _“Hm?”_

“Please.” Taehyung says, one hand falling from the headboard down to grip the sheets, so his ass in the air for Yoongi to see. “Please, I want you, hyung.”

“Do you?” The words are long and drawn out, hot against Taehyung’s skin. “Do you really?” And Taehyung’s head is dipping down, red staining his cheeks, lips glistening and parted. And Taehyung could try to ignore it, but like this, all bare for Yoongi to see, all it does it make him breath harsher, white-hot pleasure dripping across his back. And when he feels Yoongi’s nails graze his back, all it does is make him groan. He wants to _please._

“Yes, yes, _yes_.” Taehyung gasps. He turns, to see Yoongi smirk, unbelievably smug. Still fully clothed save for the slight hint of unbuckled jeans. Put together and perfect.

“Good.” Yoongi says softly, leaning forward to thread fingers through his hair, a gentle push. “Now be a good boy and close your eyes.” Taehyung nods at that, letting his head fall down into the pillow. He can hear Yoongi move, the sound of uncapped lid, followed by the wet slick of lube. He shivers as he waits, and it seems like forever when lube covered fingers graze over his ass. Taehyung stiffens.

“Relax, babe.” Yoongi murmurs, nipping against the skin of Taehyung’s back. Taehyung nods shakily, back arching as Yoongis fingers graze over his hole. A gentle huff of breath and then he slips it in, and Taehyung releases an involuntary moan. Yoongi’s hands curve, a soft  brush that has Taehyung squirming under him. And when he slips a second finger in, peppering slight kisses against Taehyung’s back, pleasure jolts under his skin. Taehyung’s fists clench against the sheets as he pushes back into the curve of Yoongi’s fingers.

“You’re so good for me.” Yoongi says, as he slips a third finger in that has Taehyung gasping. “So, perfect.”

Taehyung’s hands are gripping the headboard, rutting back with sharp moans. “Hyung, hyung please.”

Yoongi stills and his hands grip Taehyung’s hips, stopping the thrusts. “Not so fast. I still want to fuck you.”

Taehyung whines. “Please, I want it. I-”

Yoongi slips his fingers out, smiling as he leans to press another kiss against the curve of Taehyung’s  back. “You’ve been so good Taehyung.” He shucks his jeans and briefs to a mess around his thighs, before leaning to press himself against Taehyung, hands slipping down to thumb at Taehyung’s cock, circling the cock ring before getting him off with slow, slick tugs.

“Fuck me. _please_.” Taehyung breathes, pushing himself into Yoongi’s hand.

Yoongi laughs, a smug huff against his neck. “You impatient shit.” He says, but he pulls back, positioning himself against Taehyung’s ass. One hand grips his hips, the other slowly, and gently guiding himself in. Taehyung lets himself fall into the pillow, breath harsh and hot against the sheets. He turns so he can see Yoongi, and he can’t but smile at the way his face is flushed red, breath shuddering as he fully sinks in.

“You feel good.” Yoongi says softly. “You’re so good to me.” And Taehyung would’ve replied, but Yoongi merely smirks and pulls back before thrusting back in with a sharp stutter of hips. And all Taehyung can do is give in, arching his back to meet his thrusts, the sharp roll of pleasure, and the feel of an orgasm blurring at the edges of his vision. But he can’t fucking come.

“Let me come Yoongi.” Taehyung says, knuckles white against the sheets as Yoongi fingers tighten against his hips and the thrusts turn more erratic, more desperate. “Let me come. Please.”

“Not ah yet.” Yoongi says, as he hips stutter against his, fingers digging into Taehyung’s hip. And Taehyung wants nothing but release, pleasure coiling in his stomach in a white hot haze until it’s overwhelming But it’s Yoongi who comes first with scattered moans and a broken thrusts, trembling thighs, and Taehyung turns to look, at the parted red of his mouth, and the slight sheen of sweat, glistening on his exposed collar.

Taehyung sinks down into the mattress as Yoongi pulls out. His skin is on fire, heightening to every touch, every breath, cock rubbing against the bed, the bitter clench of the cock ring around him. Yoongi reaches to flip him over, and Taehyung can only let him, legs parted, cock standing parallel, begging to be touched.

“Pl.. please.” Taehyung begs, as Yoongi leans in to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. Yoongi’s still clothed, the slightest peek of shoulder from his shirt, and when his fingers trail down to his cock, Taehyung sighs in relief.

“I’m proud of you.” Yoongi says, slipping off the cock ring with lithe fingers. “You been really, really good.”

Taehyung can only nod a reply as Yoongi’s fingers unravel the heat from his stomach with long, drawn out tugs, Taehyung clenching against Yoongi’s shoulders, as he gets him off. And when the orgasm does eventually come, white-hot and sharp, it makes Taehyung arch his neck back, toes curling against the bed as Yoongi’s fingers quicken. Drawn out and perfect enough that it leaves Taehyung in a dizzy wet mess of Yoongi’s name.

Afterwards, the two are a messy slump of limbs and wet skin as Yoongi sheds his shirt and pants, entangling himself behind Taehyung’s whiny huffs of “hyung!” It’s warm, a little sticky but Yoongi can’t bring himself to pull away. Ge eventually gets a little sleepy, eyeslids droppy and it’s only then when Taehyung says something that makes him jolt awake.

“Mrrg, what?” Yoongi blinks.

Taehyung waves the cock ring in his face with a gleeful grin. “I said, how about round two? This time it’s your turn.”


	11. a state of miscommunication - taegi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: i thought you were my ex but you were actually just an one night stand and now im trying to climb out of your window and you woke up  
> extra: inspired the what the fuck? series i later wrote uwu

Yoongi usually wakes up to the furious blare of his phone, or when his neighbors do not know the definition of sleeping in. To be fair, Yoongi isn’t even physically conscious before 9. So when Yoongi wakes up to pitch darkness, the bleak realization that he is naked and a boy trying to climb out of his window- well it’s strange to say the least.

When Yoongi sits up, the boy shrieks. Not even a small shriek or anything. But a full blown scream paired with a flurry of flailing arms, eyes widened in absolute terror. Of course, Yoongi in his post-sleep haze, only screams back.

He is naked and screaming. This is already the worst day of his life.

“Who the fuck are you!” Yoongi finally says pointing an accusing finger at the boy. And when Yoongi squints, sees an admittedly nice face, defined features and bright eyes that are right now blown wide in absolute fear. His appearance stirs an inkling of remembrance. But Yoongi is too out of it to catch the memory. 

_“Sorrry!”_ The boy wails, half a leg still hanging out of the window. “I know you said you never wanted to see me again, and I didn’t know how this happened.” He slurs over his words, and Yoongi realizes he’s completely and utterly drunk.

Yoongi stares. “I don’t know who the fuck you are.”

The boy starts crying now. Jeez. “Hoseok, please, I said I’m sorry!”

Yoongi stares some more. His head hurts.  “Who the fuck is Hoseok?”

At that, the boy lifts his head, blinking cutely. “Huh?” He slowly retreats his leg from the window, and walks closer until he’s staring down at Yoongi, eyes squinting. “Wuur, wait a minute.” He lifts Yoongi’s chin, inspecting him closely. Then as sudden as the tears came, they are gone, and the boy brightens up so suddenly, it feels like morning already.  

Before Yoongi can say anything and kick this crazy man out of his house before his precious belongings get stolen, the boy gives a deliriously loud whoop, and dances around Yoongi’s bed in absolute glee. “Yes yes yes!” he chants, jumping onto the bed and hugging Yoongi close- much to his distaste and distressed cat noises.

“The fuck?” Yoongi mumbles, disentangling the boy from his limbs. He blinks the sleep away his eyes and stares down at the delighted boy rolling around on his bed with flailing arms.

That’s when he remembers.

Oh God. Yoongi buries his head in his hands. That’s right. He always had a knack of getting the weirdest one night stands.  (And if Yoongi does think a little harder he remembers some pretty bomb dick game but that’s beside the point) Admittedly some have been even stranger in bed, but often disappearing before morning (or Yoongi’s definition of morning) came. None of them have been like this.

The boy grins up at him when Yoongi’s stares down at him, eyebrow twitching because he does not know what the fuck to do. Because seriously, _what the fuck?_

“Hi, I’m Taehyung,” the boy says. “It’s not what Yoongi needs to hear right now but okay. The boy smiles, (um what the hell because _cute?_ ) “Don’t worry about me,” he says careless. “I’m just really really _reallly_ happy right now because, I thought you were my ex, because I don’t know you guys have similarly looking dicks and hair and I’m hungover right now _ha ha_ -” Taehyung rambles, hands moving in a  flurry of colour. Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that so he just blinks and falls back onto the bed with an annoyed groan.  He did not imagine his Saturday morning (or is it still Friday night?) to be like this.

Maybe this is just a really weird dream.  And if he closes his eyes, crazy (attractive) man will be gone. Yes.

“Oo are you sleeping?” Taehyung says. Apparently not then. Crazy man is here to stay. He squishes into the covers, and it’s a goddamn single bed so he just drapes himself over Yoongi, a mess of careless limbs and a reply of dying whale noises from Yoongi. “Hey hey we should totally get breakfast or brunch in the morning. I want pancakes.”

Yoongi stares up at the ceiling. It is too early to reevaluate his life right now. “You owe me some goddamn pancakes.” Taehyung replies with a snore. 


	12. steal some covers (share some skin) - vminkook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: maknaeline and lots of sleepy cuddling

Jeongguk wakes up to a suffocating stream of warm breath against his neck, a face wedged against his shoulder, and two sets of legs tangled with his under the twisted bed sheets.

Jeongguk opens his eyes with small, sleepy blinks before attempting to move his arm to rub at his eyes. But he finds it wedged under Taehyung, where he’s spooned against Jeongguk’s side, an arm thrown carelessly over Jeongguk’s stomach in a tight cuddle. And when Jeongguk turns, their noses brush, and Jeongguk can’t help but smile at the sleepy flutters of his eyelashes and the gentle slope of his lips. Even if his arm is numb as fuck. 

“Kookieeee.” He hears someone murmur behind his back, when Jeongguk finally manages to pull his arm from under the sleepy heap of Taehyung; who merely gives a soft snore and rolls onto his stomach, arms dangling at the edge of the bed. A finger prods at his back, and Jeongguk flinches, nearly knocking Taehyung in the face.

“Jimin what the hell.” Jeongguk says, when Jimin throws his arms and legs over Jeongguk, hugging him to his chest.

“Mm. Don’t get up… yet.” Jimin mouths at his neck.

“It’s like 9.” Jeongguk sighs.

“Nope.” Jimin says.

“But-”

“Nooooope.” Jimin repeats, arms tightening around his torso. “You’ll wake up Tae.”

“Too late.” Taehyung says into the pillow, raising his head to smile at a disgruntled Jeongguk. “Hehe, Bed hair.” He smiles, poking Jeongguk in the cheek, before shuffling closer, fingers pushing into Jeongguk’s hair. Jeongguk pushes into the touch with a small, content sigh, eyes slipping shut.

“I’m.. ah suffocating.” Jeongguk squeaks when Jimin nuzzles his cheek against Jeongguk’s shoulder, while Taehyung leans in for a brief peck.

“You should be happy with this awesome man sandwich.” Jimin sniffs.

“Yep yep.” Taehyung grins gleefully, littering small kisses on the bridge of Jeongguk’s nose. “We should make out please?”

Jimin nods, pressing his nose against Jeongguk’s neck. “You guys make out. I’m sleeping.”

Jeongguk wrinkles his nose. “Tae will probably fall asleep again.”

Jimin’s laugh trails off into small, even huffs of breath while Taehyung blinks at him, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against the corner of Jeongguk’s mouth. Jeongguk can’t help but melt into it. Slowly. Gently. 

It’s lazy and slow, a little sloppy because Taehyung’s head keeps lolling forward in sleepy nods. But there’s something so inherent and sweet; with the warmth of Jimin against him, soft snores dotting his neck, and limbs entangled in a mess that was theirs.

Taehyung keeps smiling and their teeth keeps knocking, but Jeongguk doesn’t really care, curving a hand around Taehyung’s cheek, while their mouths move with soft lazy movements. And with one last kiss, Taehyung gives a small sniff, yawning into Jeongguk’s shoulder. 

“Jiminnie.” Taehyung mumbles, before reaching over Jeongguk, to press agentle kiss against Jimin’s forehead before flopping back down onto his stomach, shoving his face into the pillow. 

Jeongguk sighs, but reaches up to pat the sleepy Taehyung on the head anyways, while the boy dozes off again. 

Jeongguk doesn’t know how long he was dangling on the hazy brink of sleep when a kiss is brushed across his neck. “Did Tae fall asleep?” Jimin mumbles, half awake.

“Yup.”

He feels teeth graze against his skin, and an arm reaches to flit over his lips. “My turn?”

Jimin presses himself against Jeongguk’s back, a soft roll of hips. “Ah.” Jeongguk huffs a laugh. “No Jimin.”

“But-”

“No. Last time Tae was too lazy and we ended up knocking him off the bed.” Jeongguk smiles.

“Wake Tae up then.” Jimin pouts.

“Oh heeeellllll no.” Taehyung says into the pillow, when Jeongguk pokes him. “You have hands.”

“Uh huh.” Jeongguk laughs. “My hands are numb.”

Jimin sighs into Jeongguk’s  neck, poking him in the butt. “I have two boyfriends and I still have to use my right hand, great.”

“Have fun!” Jeongguk calls while Jimin stalks to the bathroom. Before, he flops his arm around in an attempt to unnumb it. Jimin would probably want revenge later. 


	13. i can make the bad guys good for a weekend - vminkook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: nc-17  
> summary: jimin is the new student, taehyung likes to corrupt and jeongguk is corrupted

Taehyung hates morning classes. It’s really not worth it. Having to wake up at the asscrack of dawn am,  and they expect him to fucking learn about quadratic equations when he can barely make it to his desk. It’s ridiculous, and Taehyung would much rather smother Jeongguk with messy kisses and a slow morning fuck under the warmth of their blanket burrito.

And okay fine, their attendance hasn’t been the greatest, skipping classes to smoke on the rooftop, tasting each other’s ashy lips, mornings spent nestled, half asleep, other times out in the city, in empty, lone places with each others company. Jeongguk had insisted today though, with wide eyes and that small pout that switched to a smirk when Taehyung agreed with a groan.

And here they are, lounging at the back of the classroom, three minutes before class starts. Taehyung chews on his gum, blowing out a bubble as he turns to look at Jeongguk, wondering if he can convince him to leave before class starts. Jeongguk looks good today, he always does. A flop of dark hair and bright eyes, his collar is a bit crooked, a slight peek of neck and a mark that Taehyung had breathed out against his neck the night before. Taehyung smirks at that, drinking in the pretty sight.

It’s not long before Jeongguk catches him looking, and his lips tip upwards in a lopsided smile. Taehyung is just about to ask to ditch so he can press lips to that toothy smile of his, but then the bell sounds with a loud, shrill ring. Taehyung groans and lets himself sink back into his seat, knees knocking into Jeongguk with a frown. Jeongguk merely smiles.

Their teacher strolls in, but that’s not what catches Taehyung’s attention. At his heels, is a messy fluff of brown hair; a short boy, with pinkish cheeks and eyes that curves into crescents when he addresses the class with a slight bow.

“My name is Park Jimin!” The boy says, followed by wide smile and chubby cheeks. Taehyung tilts his head. It shouldn’t make sense, so childlike but the wry muscle on his arms says otherwise.

“Nice to meet you!” He’s deliciously sweet, Taehyung realizes. Bright eyes, red lips and cute cheeks. His fingers curl around the table as he leans forward, interest piqued. He reminds Taehyung of when he first met Jeongguk. The small boy, with dark hair and shy eyes, hidden behind the pages of a book. Jeongguk isn’t so shy anymore.

Taehyung watches as Jimin bows again. The class titters before they return his greeting, and when Jimin makes his way towards his seat, their eyes meet; just for a second though and a bloom of red paints his cheek and his gaze drops. Taehyung smiles. How cute. 

Taehyung turns to look at Jeongguk. His mouth had dropped open, wet and glistening. And that look. Taehyung knows that look. When Jeongguk turns to him, Taehyung grins.

-

In the next period, Taehyung has Jeongguk presses against the wall of the toilet door, pants bunched at his knees as his lips skim over Jeongguk’s hipbone, fingers pressing against the skin of his trembling thighs.

Taehyung pauses, fingers digging into the skin of his thigh. “What are you thinking about?”

Jeongguk’s fingers tighten in his hair and Taehyung meets his gaze when he looks down. “Your mouth,” he breathes.

Taehyung smiles, gently nipping at Jeongguk’s hipbone, which earns him a breathy gasp. “You’re lying,” he says, breath running hot across his skin. Jeongguk doesn’t reply to that, instead lets his head fall back to hit the stall door, eyes slipping closed.

Taehyung mouth trails kisses until he’s positioned right over his cock. Jeongguk shivers. “What are you thinking about? He asks again, mouth hovering. Taehyung knows. Of course he knows. “Tell me, Jeonggukkie.”

When Jeongguk doesn’t reply immediately, Taehyung sighs and takes him into his mouth. Jeongguk jerks with a surprised moan, as heat blooms under his skin, legs shaking.Taehyung sucks him off with a smooth push of his mouth, the wet roll of his tongue.

Jeongguk’s clenches his eyes shut. “I’m… i’m thinking of the boy… Park Jimin from first- ah. period.” He feels Taehyung smile around his cock, before he pulls back with an obscene _pop_ , mouth a raw red, slicked with saliva.

“ _Oh?_ ” Taehyung prompts, as Jeongguk jerks his hips under his hands.

“Yeah…” Jeongguk gasps when Taehyung’s presses warm kisses against his skin.

“He’s pretty isn’t he?” Taehyung purrs, before he slides his tongue down the length of his cock, relishing in the way Jeongguk hips arch for him.

‘Y..yes.“ Jeongguk sighs.

“You know who he reminds me of?” Taehyung says, pausing. Jeongguk eyes flick down to look at him, breath heaving in slight gasps. “You. Do you remember that Kookie?”

Jeongguk had been sweet. All shy ducks of the head, eager raises of the hand to answer questions, a studious hard working student. Taehyung had had to repeat, so flighty and wild, smoke clinging against his shoulders, candy slicked lips and everything Jeongguk was not. Everything Jeongguk didn’t _need_. Maybe it was attraction, lust or a desire to rebel, whatever it was, Taehyung drew- no _draws_  Jeongguk in like an addiction that tastes that nicotine.

Studious. Gentle. Shy. All gone and Jeongguk could never imagine what it feels to drown in waves of pleasure and Taehyung’s hands and mouth against his until he was tangled in bed sheets and Taehyung. 

Jeongguk hips jerk shakily as Taehyung’s tongue runs down the length of his cock, dipping to run over the slit. “He’s… he’s just your type.”

He feels Taehyung almost choke on his dick as he laughs. “What’s my type?” He asks, with a smile wide enough to blind.

“Cute, sweet.” Jeongguk hesitates. “ _Corruptible_.”

Taehyung laughs, again head tipped back. “I’m a bad person aren’t I?”

“No.” Jeongguk moans as the wet, heady heat of Taehyung’s mouth surrounds him again. “No you’re not,” Taehyung’s fingers dig into his thighs hard enough to leave small red marks, preventing Jeongguk from thrusting, drawing out the stirs of pleasure dripping down his stomach.

Taehyung takes him deeper, and it doesn’t take long for Jeongguk to arch his neck, eyes clenched shut as he comes with a drawn out moan, echoing against the empty stalls. Taehyung swallows and presses a kiss against Jeongguk’s hipbone.

“Either way,” Taehyung’s voice is husky. “I want him.”

Jeongguk lets his head fall back into the stall door. “I know,” he pauses, “me too.”

-

Park Jimin was malleable, smooth like water under their fingers. It’s easy.

Little touches was all it needed for the boy to tense, the jerky beat of his heart, cheeks hot. Drawn out smiles made him fluster, and trip, and the heat of his cheeks stayed when Taehyung guides him to his class, fingers pressing against the small of his back.

Taehyung is completely and utterly shameless. Wild winks, fleeting touches and breath grazing his ear, and a dark smile that leaves Jimin ducking his head.

Jeongguk is a little more subtle. A stare that lingers ,the barest smirk. And when they invite Jimin to sit with them during class, he has his eyes peeled at the front of the room, all while his fingers rest on Jimin’s thigh, leaving harsh burning touches through his track pants.

Jimin isn’t stupid. He knows what they want. They’re both sinfully beautiful, broad shoulders, pretty eyes and mouths that breathe the barest hint of what they can offer leaving his heart racing and lips dry. It’ll be easy, so easy to _give in._

Once, after school Jimin had been walking home, books pressed to his chest. Having studied at the school library until closing time, the sky is now painted a rosy orange, night inching out from the horizon. He doesn’t expect anyone to be at school anymore, and he definitely doesn’t expect to stumble upon those two.

In between the slight gap of the door of an empty classroom, Jeongguk has Taehyung pressed against the wall, fingers pressed up under his shirt, to reveal pretty mocha skin, as he kisses Taehyung with hungry moans. 

Jimin freezes, fingers digging into his book hard enough to hurt. Taehyung sees him and his lips tilt upwards into a dirty grin. Suggestive, almost beckoning. He tangles his fingers in Jeongguk’s hair and doesn’t break eye contact. Jimin’s heart drops to his stomach, and he quickly strides forward, blood rushing to his chest, his face, pounding in his ears.

“What’s wrong?” Jeongguk tilts his head, when Taehyung doesn’t return his kisses.

“Jimin.” Taehyung says. “I was so sure he would-”

“Don’t worry.” Jeongguk says, hands sliding over his ribs. “It won’t be long.”

-

Jimin isn’t dumb. And two- or really three, can play this game.

He likes the flash of surprise across Jeongguk’s face when he rocks up at Hoseok’s weekly dance class. And he likes it even more, when he rolls his hips, showing off the curve of his arms, eyes lidded and dark as he dances. He likes the way Jeongguk’s eyes follow every step, drinking in, remembering but- Jimin’s hips move forward in a smooth roll- not allowed to take.

Jimin smirks. How frustrating. Right?

“Hey.” Jeongguk says, and Jimin looks up, wet hair dripping, towel slung across his shoulders.

Jimin smiles. “Hi.”

Jeongguk pauses, almost contemplative before he talks again. “You’re not subtle,” he says, gaze tracing down to the curve of his neck peeking from his shirt, dotted with droplets of water, before his eyes flick up to Jimin again. 

Jimin’s grin widens. “And you guys are?”

Jeongguk steps closer. “You know we’re together right? Tae and I”

Jimin’s breath hitches. “Yeah.. yeah I figured as much.”

“We’re together,” Jeongguk hesitates. “… but we want you. Taehyung might seem like he’s playing, with all the flirting and shit. But we know what we want. ”

“Oh.’ Jimin breathes.  Over the past few weeks, Jimin had discovered that where Taehyung was suggestive, Jeongguk was straightforward. 

Jeongguk’s lips part. "You can think about it. Come next week. Tae would want to see you dance.”

And before Jimin could reply, Jeongguk had pushed passed him, leaving the hammering of his heart in his mouth.

-

Every move was perfect and calculated, the sharp movements, the swift steps, the roll of hips and arch of shoulders, the smile dark enough to burn. Everyone’s eyes were on him, stage presence suffocating the room. There were only two he really cared about though.

“I told you,” Jeongguk leans in to whisper into his ear.

Taehyung blinks, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes darken. “Oh,” is all he says with a breathy sigh, Jeongguk knows what it means though.

Taehyung isn’t patient, but he waits until Jimin has finished the shower until he grasps his shoulders, and presses him against the wall, lips leaving the barest graze against the dampness of his neck.

“Jiminnie.” Taehyung says. Jimin fights back a sharp moan, and his fingers fist into Taehyung’s shirt.

Jeongguk emerges from the lockers. “What the fuck Taehyung, I leave you for two minutes and you jump the kid?”

Taehyung retreats with a slight pout, not before leaving a peck on Jimin’s neck though. “I couldn’t resist.” He fingers skim over Jimin’s lips and Jimin’s eyelids flutter involuntarily at the touch, he can feel Jeongguk’s gaze on him, ready and hot.

When his eyes open, Taehyung is looking at him carefully. It’s different. Different, from the flirty smiles, and sharp touches.

“Jimin,” Jeongguk says slowly. “Do you want-”

“Yes,” Jimin cuts in quickly.

Taehyung laughs.

“-to get some food?” Jeongguk finishes, a smile gracing his lips. It’s not exactly what Jimin was expecting, but he agrees all the same.

Dinner is pizza between smudged fingers, and kisses that tastes like tomato sauce and smoke. Between the slight light of the TV, and the warmth of the blanket, two pairs of hands intertwine with his. It’s perfect.

And later the pizza box is discarded for hot hands and wet mouths.

Jimin skips class for the very first time the next morning. Swapped instead for legs dangling over the roof top, and a pair of warm shoulders pressed against his.

“I’m going to get whipped you know.” Jimin mumbles, staring up at the endless expanse of blue sky. 

Taehyung laughs at that. “So?”

Strangely, Jimin finds he really doesn’t care that much at all. Not even when Taehyung hands him a cigarette that suffocates his throat and sends him into a coughing fit. Not even when he sucks Taehyung off, slow and hesitant, all while Jeongguk gets him off with slender fingers, muttering pretty nothings in his ear. Not even when nights are spent wedged between two sweaty, hot bodies, and messy tangles of legs and hands and something else, something that enveloped all three with a warmth far hotter than their blankets . 

Why would Jimin care? After all, you have nothing to lose when there’s that much to love. 


	14. i can show you the world -vmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: i don’t know if you know this but i can hear you singing anime theme songs in the shower and i like almost all the shows you watch.”

Jimin likes taking his shower later than earlier, not because the water is at least a few degrees colder, and there are more suspicious hairballs than not; but because he knows he gets a bit too overexcited and ends up singing just a tad too loudly. (Okay, maybe last time, three seniors threatened to cause bodily harm if he didn’t shut up but that’s beside the point.) But hey you can’t blame him, the acoustics in there are fucking _phenomenal._

So with his slippers, and his trusty soap and towel in hand, Jimin wanders into one of the stalls, double checking just to make sure he doesn’t scare the crap out of anyone. He dodges the cold spray of water with practiced ease, while humming under his breath, waiting for the water to warm.

This stupid song from his most recent anime had been stuck in his head all goddamn day, and Yoongi had threatened to shove a telephone stick up his ass if he didn’t shut up. But now, under the lukewarm spray of the shower, and with happy poofs in his shampoo filled hair, he had all the time in the world (at least before the water turns arctic cold) to sing his heart out.

It’s a pretty dramatic song, so of course if he had his eyes clenched shut, head thrown back, fingers around his shampoo bottle in a mocking attempt at a microphone, ready to attempt the 2nd part of the duet; he would definitely not notice anyone entering the bathroom. So when Jimin finishes his part, and another voice joins in, Jimin only gets one second to appreciate how nice it is before he flips the fuck out and slips onto his butt with a painful yelp, blinded by the spray hammering down.

“OH MY GOD.” Is all Jimin hears, before someone rushes into his stall and Jimin sees someone lean down to cradle his head, blocking the water. And when his eyes focus again, Jimin finds himself staring at the most beautiful lips ever, and all it does is make him more dizzy and his ass hurt more.

“Huh.” Is all Jimin manages, as he stares up at pretty eyelashes dotted with droplets of water.

“Are you dead?” The boy says, shaking him slightly. “I’m sorry!”

“Wait.” Jimin says slowly. “Who are you, what are you…?”

The boy’s face is an epitome of desperation, hands clutching his shoulders, and in a moment of awe, Jimin realizes that he’s naked and wet, there’s still shampoo in his hair and he also happens to be in the arms of a very attractive stranger, and _whatthefuckishappening._

“I…” Mr. Attractive Stranger starts. “I don’t know if you know this but I can hear you singing anime songs in the shower and I like almost all the shows you watch!”

 "You watch Kuroko no Basuke?“ Is all Jimin can think to say.

"Yes, I’m Taehyung!” 

“I’m uh- Jimin.” Jimin says with slow blinks.

Taehyung’s grin is wide and blinding. “Did you see last nights episode with the-”

"Um.” Jimin cuts Taehyung off quickly. “It was great and all but is it okay if we discuss this after I put on some pants?”


	15. bearer of porridge - jinmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: jimin is sick, jin takes care of him

“I’m not sick!” Jimin complains, rolling in his blankets until he’s nothing but a white mound of a blanket burrito, with a tuft of brown hair peeking out and the hint of a sniffling, red nose. Seokjin doesn’t reply, merely raising an amused eyebrow as Jimin flails like a disabled seal.

“I have important stuff to do!” Jimin whines, burrowing his sniffles into the pillow.

“Lying around and eating biscuits on the floor isn’t business.” Seokjin  sighs, flicking through his magazine.

With a petulant huff, Jimin lolls his head down the side of the bed, but finds that’s not a good idea when the room starts spinning.

“Jimin.” Seokjin says. “Sleep, or else I’m going to tie you to the bed.”

“I didn’t know you were into that.” Jimin grins.

“Go to sleep Jimin.” Seokjin sighs.

“You’re no fun hyung.”

But Jimin does what he’s told, kind of. In actuality he  just closes his eyes for a while, and not really sleep but fall into this white dizzy haze; but when he opens his eyes again  Seokjin is gone.

“Yes!’ Jimin says pumping a weak arm into the air as he shoves his other hand under his pillow to retrieve his phone. But when he holds it to his face, his mouth drops open.

_Disabled for 48 hours_ the phone flashes, red and unblinking and evil.

“Too evil. Evil, evil evil.” Jimin moans, hand falling down with a thwack onto the mattress.

“That’s not something nice to call the bearer of porridge.” Seokjin says emerging from the doorway with a steaming bowl and a spoon in his hand.

“No.” Jimin groans. “You disable my phone and then give me cat poop. Nooooo.”

“Don’t be a kid, c’mon eat up.”

“No.”

“If you’re good I’ll give you ice cream. “ Seokjin sighs, spooning a heap of porridge.

Jimin narrows his eyes at Seokjin, though contemplates it. “What flavour?”

“Choc chip.”

“Fine.” Jimin huffs, and he was probably going to say more, but the words get jarbled as Seokjin shoves a spoonful into porridge into his mouth.

It’s silent for a while, the only sound is the soft noises Jimin makes as he swallows, and the gentle sloshing of the porridge as Seokjin spoons another mouthful. Jimin blinks up at him, eyes a little red, but sweet all the same. Seokjin’s eyebrows are furrowed, concentration etched on his face like spoon feeding Jimin is like a hard piece of choreography instead of a simple task. Jimin finds it cute though, the way his nose scrunches up a little, tongue peeking from the edges of his lips. And when he swallows the next spoonful, he can’t help but curl his fingers in his shirt and pull him into a chaste kiss.

“You’re sick, Jimin.” Seokjin murmurs as the empty bowl and spoon is discarded to cup gentle fingers around Jimin’s face. “You should, ah- sleep!” He gasps, as he feels teeth scrape against his lips.

Jimin stares at him through his eyelashes, fingers edging up Seokjin’s shirt. “I can think of better things to do, to pass the time.” He says with a wink.

Seokjin rolls his eyes, and shoves Jimin away, who falls back onto the bed with a small whimper. “You’re stupid, go back to sleep.”

Jimin pouts. “You’re mean hyung.”

Seokjin smiles, and reaches down to run a quick hand through his hair . “You’re such a kid.” He huffs, as Jimin blinks up at him.

There’s a soft silence for a while, the only sound is Seokjin gently running fingers through Jimin’s hair, and the steady sound of each exhale as fingers flit gently down to rub at his neck. Jimin leans into the touch with a sigh, making a soft noise not unlike a content cat.

“Hyung..?” Jimin asks.

“Hm?”

“Can we cuddle?” Jimin peeks up at Seokjin, through steady fingers threading through his hair. Seokjin pauses for a while and Jimin pouts, an almost whine slipping through his lips.

With a roll of his eyes  Seokjin slips under the blankets, wrapping his arms around Jimin, leaning down to press the slightest of kisses against his neck.

“You’re such a brat Jimin.”Seokjin  sighs, it’s supposed to sound exasperated but comes out sounding more fond than anything.

“Love you too.” Jimin mumbles, eyes slipping shut.

“You better not make me sick.” Seokjin says after a while, but Jimin doesn’t hear it, already snoring softly into the pillow.


	16. bathtubs and blowjobs (or lack thereof) - jinmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: jimin works too hard sometimes. jin is there to bring him back with slight kisses and a warm hand.

Jimin always works too hard, smiles too much, pushes and pushes, until his body is a shivery mess of sweat and adrenaline and frustration. Seokjin knows it too well, the gritted teeth, the sharp moves, the sweat glistening on his body, overexertion and  exhaustion but brimming with determination. He sees it all.

Sometimes Jimin pushes a little too much, teetering over the edge. Sometimes none of them see, too immersed in their own practice, the scream of the fans, and preoccupied in their own dance moves to notice. Seokjin sees though.

It’s up to him, to bring him back, with slight kisses and a warm hand.

Jimin is at it again, long after his water bottle has drained every last drop, long after the night had darkened, long after the streets have stilled. He moves, and pushes, limbs begging and aching. His teeth are gritted in fustration, bangs sticking to his face.

“Fuck.” Jimin grits out, as he stumbles over a step, fingers clenching at his sides.

Seokjin watches as the boy sinks to the floor of the dance room, a hand running through his hair, distracted and jittery.

“Jimin.” He says softly, walking over to hand him a drink bottle. “It’s 2am.”

“I know.” Jimin mutters, chugging down gulps of water, dribbling down his chin. “I just can’t… ”

Seokjin shuffles closer. “We still have time okay? Now, you need to rest.”

Jimin shakes his head and gets up again, hands trembling against one of the mirrors. “I need-”

“No.” Seokjin says, firm this time. “You need sleep.” He wrinkles his nose. “and a bath, you stink.”

Jimin huffs a laugh. “After this-”

“Nope.” Seokjin says, getting up and pulling Jimin by the flimsy tank top.

“I swear, just that one move!”

“Nu-uh.” Seokjin says pulling Jimin towards the door.

“ _Hyuuuuuung_.”

Seokjin shakes his head. “We’re going to take a bath.”

Jimin brightens at that, flashing an eye crinkling grin. “We?”

“Yep.” Seokjin sighs.

“And a blowjob?” Jimin grins, all adorable and perky.

“If you’re lucky.”

“Yes!” Jimin says, sprinting towards the bathroom with a triumphant yelp. Seokjin smiles despite himself, watching the boy run down the halls with a fond look.  
-

“We need more bubbles.” Jimin says in all seriousness, staring down at the bubbling mess of the tub.

“No more bubbles.”

“We need more bubbles.” Jimin repeats stubbornly.

“If you drown and die, then I really do not care.” Seokjin deadpans as he adds in more bubble mixture, sighing as the bathtub monster doubles in size.

“You are the best hyung!” Jimin grins, shrugging off his tanktop and shorts and launching himself into the tub, before Seokjin can even admire the firm muscle on his stomach. Not fair.

As he sinks down in the tub, Jimin almost disappears under the heap of bubbles, the only hint of him is the messy mop of hair poking out from the tub.

Jimin blinks up at Seokjin who stand awkwardly near the rim of the tub, eyelids fluttering as he says. “Hyung, are you going to join me or not?”

“Okay, okay.” Seokjin says with a shake of his head, before he’s shrugging his clothes off and climbing into the tub.

“I want a head massage.” Jimin demands petulantly as he shuffles closer, wet skin rubbing against Seokjin’s shoulders. Their legs entangle underneath the water as Jimin snuggles into the warm crook of Seokjin’s arms.

“You’re really bratty you know.” Seokjin sighs, but then again he’s already getting the shampoo and threading soapy fingers through Jimin’s hair. “You always get what you want.”

“Ah.” Jimin breathes with a content sigh. “That’s because you always do what I want, hyung.”

Seokjin doesn’t say anything, because it’s not necessarily wrong.

The next few minutes are silent but calm, the soft sound of Seokjin’s fingers tangling through Jimin’s hair, and the gentle relaxed exhales and breaths in the midst of the bubbles.

It’s surprisingly sweet, the way Jimin arches back into his touch, the soft, almost contented rumble in his chest, almost like a lazy cat.

Seokjin would have been happy to just sit there, stroking Jimin’s hair. Well, if not the fact that every time Jimin pushes back, his ass keeps grazing his dick.

“Um, we did agree to blowjobs right?” Seokjin says. Fuck subtlety.

Jimin lolls his head onto the side of the tub, and at first Seokjin thinks he’s turning around, but then Jimin doesn’t budge.

“Jimin?” Seokjin says, pulling his hand away from his hair.

He’s met with soft snores.

“I hate you.” Seokjin sighs, letting his head fall back to hit the tiled wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jimin falls asleep a lot, a headcanon of mine hehe  
> what a lil puppeh


	17. untitled - nammin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: namjoon works late at night but jimin is sleepy

The coffee cup sitting on his desk is black and murky and cold, just like the edges of his fingers, smudged black with ink of unwritten words and unspoken lyrics. They curl around his pen, shaking, faltering, mind a hazy, blundering mess of everything and nothing. 

Namjoon sighs, dipping his head down onto the table, under the soft flicker of his night lamp. He has stories to tell, things he wants to show, to do, but no matter how hard he tries to align the messy tangles of his mind, they don’t do what he wants them to. And the blank paper blinks at him, taunting.

He’s teetering on the edges of unconsciousness, eyelids droopy, so of course he barely notices someone is leaning down, let alone someone was even in the room with him. Under closed lids, he feels a gentle tickle of hair against his cheek, a soft, warm pressure of lips against his shoulder that makes Namjoon give a short, sweet exhale.

“Hyung,” he hears Jimin murmur against his skin. “It’s late.”

_I’m working._ Namjoon wants to say, but the words don’t seem to make it properly to his throat and all he does is make a noise that sounds like something between a yawn and a dazed yodel. he hears Jimin giggle at that, lips vibrating against his skin,, before hands curl around his shoulders, warm lips leaving small, searing pecks on his neck.

“Come to bed,” Jimin says, burrowing his head against Namjoon’s shoulders with a small, adorable whine.

“I have to finish this,” Namjoon says, face smooshed into the table as Jimin nuzzles his cheek against his shoulder.

“The bed is cold, I need my body pillow,” Jimin pouts, fingers tangling in Namjoon’s hair, running soft affectionate fingers through the bright strands.

“Mm.” Namjoon says, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Jimin perk up at that. “Maybe.”

Jimin deflates. “It’s 3am hyung!”

“Is it?” Namjoon says. Time seems irrelevant, in between the bars of scribbled notes, and words. Not to Jimin though.

“You’ve been working so hard…” Jimin murmurs moving to sit himself behind Namjoon, voice soft like silk. His fingers move to slide around Namjoon’s waist, hands warm, words breathy. “Don’t you deserve a rest?”

Namjoon laughs, a gentle chuckle. “Just a rest?”

Jimin leans in to press a warm kiss against his ear. “ We could…” He pauses, and Namjoon holds his breath. “Spoon.”

“Oh my god.” Namjoon’s shoulders shake with laughter. And Jimin merely smiles, resting his chin against Namjoon’s shoulders. “You little shit.”

“Is that a yes?” Jimin says.

Namjoon yawns. “Mm, yeah. Let’s do some hardcore spooning.”


	18. blessed be the boys time can't capture - sugamon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: "what are stories?" yoongi asks

“What are stories?” Yoongi asks, when his mouth seems to have a mind of its own and the silence has turned as dark as the content lull of the night. The only sound is the constant tap of his pen against the paper and unwritten words festering inside his head until they hurt, unwilling to spill onto the paper.

Namjoon blinks at him over the glaringly bright screen of his laptop. “Huh?”

“What are stories?” Yoongi repeats, pressing his pen hard enough that blue ink spills through the paper, messy and smudged.

Namjoon doesn’t reply at first, and when Yoongi swivels his chair around, he finds that the leader has his hands cupped to his face, quiet and contemplative. After a while, he looks up to hold Yoongi’s gaze. “Stories are not reality.” He says between furrowed brows. “They are, but our own perception of what is and what not.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Stop being so damn philosophical.” He sighs. 

Namjoon laughs, a soft rumbling sound. “You started it asshole.”

Yoongi stares down at the winding inky mess of scrawled words on his page, his stories translating into spitting words on a page. It’s not powerful like Yoongi wants them to be, instead dull and lifeless, dying as they hit the page.

“If…” Yoongi starts, not exactly sure what he wants to say. “If they’re not real, why do we tell them?” The words trip over his tongue in their haste to get out.

When Namjoon replies, it’s calculated and slow. “I didn’t say stories weren’t real, they are real to you, to me and the ones who listen to them.”

Yoongi blinks at that, and turns to Namjoon again, something quiet falling from his lips. “Why do we write them?”

It’s a question he’s asked before, just like the constant words that have fallen out of his mouth these past years, uttered during nights when exhaustion claws at him until his bones are brittle and cold or days when he’s dripping with sweat on the floor of the practice room, wondering why he can’t be better. These words are laced with doubt and fear and a need for reassurance. Namjoon can give that.

This time, the response is quick. “Because we love it.”

The reply makes Yoongi think. It makes Yoongi think about words, his words on his tongue, free and gentle like water as they flow out into the mic, he thinks about the feel of the stage under his feet, and the wide eyed faces of the fans, and maybe they don’t understand everything, but they listen and that’s enough. As always, Namjoon is right.

“I know.” Yoongi says finally, when his thoughts fade into the night. And silence falls again.

When he looks up again, Namjoon is at his side, pressing a warm hand into his shoulder, leaning in close enough that their breaths mingle.

“We are the stories we tell.” He says, and Yoongi’s eyes flutter as his breath ghosts his lips. Those words don’t particularly make much sense to him right now, but they seem important, so Yoongi keeps them close and maybe one day he’ll understand whatever Namjoon is trying to tell him.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything as Namjoon stares at him with an intensity he doesn’t recognise and for a very brief moment, he wonders. If he were to lean in, just until their lips were brushing and breathe through their mouths, would Namjoon be able to catch his thoughts and straighten them out into clear, clean lyrics? But then Namjoon and the warm heat of his hand is gone and Yoongi watches his retreating back.

With a hazy smile, he turns back to his paper and begins to write again, thought after thought, word after word.


	19. if it's not love, what is it? - jikook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: nc-17  
> summary: jimin doesn't remember when they stopped making love.

Jimin doesn’t remember when they stopped making love.

They still fucked of course. But that wasn’t love, far from it,  because you see, sex is not love.

If Jimin tries to remember what loving Jungkook was like, tries to remember how they had loved. He can. Because he remembers, some memories hazy, some completely vivid. It’s hard to forget. It really is.

And sometimes it hurts to remember.

Making love was about intimacy. The feel of smooth skin against lips, the comfort of someone beneath his hands. Warm and sweet. It was harsh sometimes, lips and teeth and hands, but under the heady moans, Jungkook would hold him close and breathe whispers against his collarbones. Soft confessions, followed by sharp moans. That was love.

Fucking on the other hand. Was fast, a little desperate. It was about power and pleasure. It was selfish,a  take and take and take. Jimin could only give. It was all he could do. Jungkook would grab his hips, and Jimin would turn away, because although Jungkook would moan his name, it didn’t sound like it was meant for him.

 

Even though Jungkook would hold him while they fucked, Jimin felt alone.

They were supposed to be together tonight, another one of those half assed apologies Jungkook attempts to make. Jungkook had dragged Jimin to a party, a promise on his lips. “It’ll be fun I promise.” And really at first it isn’t bad, it’s not like one of those parties, with blinding lights and pounding music and Jimin loses Jungkook in the sea of sweaty bodies. No, it’s quite nice actually. And Jungkook dances with Jimin, eyes curved into crescents, laughter ringing.

But Jungkook fucks up again, because Jimin is just not good enough.

It was a girl this time, a _girl_.  She’s hot, of course she is. She’s a bit hard to get, pushes Jungkook away at first, eyelashes fluttering. Her lips are red, her hips are slender and her eyes are pretty. And she’s not Jimin.

Jimin doesn’t see them kiss, but he knows what’s coming, he’s seen it before. So he leaves.

Jimin had tried to sleep. Would’ve been easier.

Instead he lies awake and thinks about Jungkook, it’s always been about him.

He thinks about their first kiss, sweet, innocent, hesitant, followed by a small confession. He thinks about the first time they had sex, a little awkward, but amazing all the same. Soft little gasps, and Jungkook’s gentle fingers on his shoulder.

He thinks about Jungkook’s first mistake, the profuse apologies, he thinks about his forgiveness.

He thinks about the second, the third and the fourth mistake. The fourth had been the worst, Jungkook had reeked of alcohol, and when Jimin had confronted him, there wasn’t the usual apology, the warm hug, and sweet lies. Jungkook had laughed.

“You don’t own me Jimin. You don’t own me. Do you think we’re boyfriend or some shit?” And, fuck that hurt. It hurt so much, like someone had torn his throat out and he was left raw, bloody and broken.

But, he didn’t say a word, instead he gently tucked Jungkook in bed, and sat at the edge of the mattress, head in his hands.

“You should leave.” Jungkook had muttered,so quiet that the words were almost lost in the darkness. “You should leave, Because I’m just going to hurt you again. I don’t deserve you.”

That was 5 months and 23 days ago.

And Jimin still can’t let go. How pathetic.

Jungkook comes home a few hours later, walking through the door calmly, red blooming across his cheeks. Jimin can tell it’s not from alcohol, a part of him wishes it was.

“Jimin.” Jungkook blinks at him, “You’re still up?” He’s perched by the side of the window, looking out. He doesn’t turn to look at Jungkook.

Jimin doesn’t reply for a second, before sighing. “Did you kiss her?” he asks, suddenly very, very tired. Resigned.

There’s a slight pause, before Jungkook replies.“Yes.” Jungkook, looks up at Jimin through his eyelashes, cautious.

“Did you fuck her?” Jimin asks softly, rubbing a hand through his hair.

“No. I didn’t.”

“But you touched her.” It’s not a question.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. The silence is heavy, stifling. Jimin is the first one to break it. “I’m going to bed.” He sighs harshly, standing up, and brushing past Jungkook towards the bedroom.

“Jimin, wait.” Jungkook grasps at his sleeve, and Jimin tugs it away harshly and he’s grabbing at Jungkook’s collar and pushing him towards the wall.

“What do you want me to do Jungkook? What do you want me to do?” Jimin’s voice is a sharp whisper, a stark contrast to his harsh breaths. Jungkook curls a hand around Jimin’s neck, nails digging in.

“You don’t care. You don’t care who I fuck.” Jungkook hisses. “None of this matters to you, does it?“

The room is silent, except for the sound of harsh breathing. Jimin’s fingers unclench from Jungkook’s collar, and they fall to his  side. “I can’t…” Jimin breathes. “I can’t do anything, because, you don’t belong to me.”

Jungkook’s hand shakes against Jimin’s neck, fingers trembling. His vision blurs. “I’m sorry.” He gasps. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Jimin.”

Jimin sighs. “I’m tired Jungkook. I’m really tired of this. Of us.”

Jungkook turns to look at Jimin, at those teary eyes, soft skin, shivering lips. “Please leave. Just please.” he whispers, breath ghosting Jimin’s cheek.

“I…” Jimin starts, Jungkook looks up at him, tears caught on the edge of his eyelashes. Jimin finds that he’s really beautiful like this. This fake vulnerability. It reminds him of their first kiss, Jungkook’s innocence, hesitance.

He feels Jungkook’s fingers tighten around his neck, and his gaze falls, down to his lips. Jimin knows what he wants. He leans in.

“Don’t do this.” Jungkook whispers, Jimin’s lips inches from his.

But, like always. Jimin gives in.

They fuck again. (Because it’s not love.)

It feels good, but hurts, hurts _so_ much, and with every moan, it feels like a crash against his ribs, and every biting kiss, tastes deliciously poisonous.

They fuck face to face. But Jimin turns away.

“Look at me, please.” Jungkook gasps. He tilts Jimin’s face until their eyes meet. And for a few seconds, Jimin can fall into Jungkook’s unwavering gaze. Can tell himself, that the way he’s thrusting into him, the way he’s grasping at his hips, the marks he leaves, are a sign of love. 

But reality, all but comes crashing down. Breaking Jimin’s bones one by one.

Jungkook’s looking at him, but he isn’t really. They’re glazed, dark with pleasure. This isn’t love, it was never about love.

“I could be yours you know.” Jungkook breathes against Jimin’s chest, right before he comes. “I could be yours.” Jimin doesn’t say anything, because he knows it’s not true. Jungkook doesn’t belong to him. He never did.

After they come, Jungkook pulls out and walks into the bathroom without a backward glance.

Leaving a little more than broken Jimin to pick up the peices.


	20. grocery misadventures - jikook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: jikook grocery shopping

Being the maknae, you had to do certain things. And by do, Jeongguk actually meant bullied by his hyungs until he just did whatever they wanted him to do.

This included grocery shopping.

At first Jeongguk was adamant on not going, because hell no he was going grocery shopping, because if his past experiences with his mother were any indication, they were boring and dull and he had better stuff to do, like dance practice or being famous or defeating the next gym leader in Pokemon Heartgold.

“We’re all going to die from starvation.” Seokjin says, being annoyingly reasonable as usual.

Jeongguk wrinkles his nose as his Feraligatr takes down a wild pokemon. “I don’t care.”

“There will be no snacks all week and all we have are carrots.” He can see Seokjin putting his hands on his hips like that makes him look more intimidating or something.

Jeongguk rolls onto his stomach. “No.”

“Fine, no hello panda for you then.” He hears Seokjin huff.

“Hyuuuuung.” Jeongguk whines.

“Here’s the shopping list.” Seokjin says with a grin, as he shoves a thick notebook into his hand.

Jeongguk’s first grocery trip didn’t go well. He got lost three times, once wandering aimlessly for half an hour trying to find milk until a shop attendent took pity on him and showed him to all the aisles while Jeongguk trailed like a lost puppy.

It was worse when he got home, because although he did get his belated packets of Hello Panda apparently “You brought the wrong yogurt!” “I wanted Green Tea flavour.” “These apples are gross.”

Jeongguk sighs. “I’m never going grocery shopping again.” He mumbles.

And that’s the story of how Jeongguk is now forced to go grocery shopping once a week.

Eventually, Jeongguk actually knows where everything is and it’s not that bad, and he can buy all the snacks he wants for himself. (His Hello Panda stash is growing considerably well) Not to mention, his arms are looking pretty nice from all the groceries he has to carry each week.

But then one week, there was an incident he doesn’t really like to mention, and long story short it included Jeongguk sprinting with 8 bags of groceries and a few saesang fans. Afterwards, he thought it definitely wouldn’t be bad for someone to help him with grocery shopping.

So when Jimin had asked. “Can I come too?” Jeongguk figured it wasn’t a bad idea.

But when they walk in, and Jimin starts zipping on the trolley, Jeongguk thinks he’s definitely made a mistake.

“Jimin!” Jeongguk hisses as Jimin narrowly misses a tower of canned tomatoes. “Get down, people are staring.”

Jimin frowns, but does as he’s told. “You’re no fun Kookie.” he pouts.  
Jeongguk merely shakes his hand and whips out the notebook.

The thing about shopping lists were that, when you had seven very hungry boys under one roof, it usually meant a lot of food and one list was nowhere near enough. Not to mention, some members were very fussy and specific, so instead of do tpoints there were just messy scrawls scribbled everywhere. So, to any onlooker it may look like a journal, but if you squint closer it’s really just scribbles of food and maybe some specifics on what not to get and some threats here and there. Which is really quite rude, because the fate of their week’s food was in Jeongguk’s (and Jimin’s) hands.

Jeongguk sighs at the long, messy list and begins dragging Jimin to the dairy aisle. “We’re getting milk first c’mon.”

The dairy aisle really isn’t that far away, and on any normal week, he’ll get to it in a few minutes. This wasn’t any normal week though, and dragging Jimin along is like dragging a big, very excited and distracted puppy. Which is to say, Jeongguk thinks they’ll never get to the dairy aisle.

“Jeongguk, Jeonguuuuuuk!” Jeongguk sighs as Jimin tugs on his sleeve. “Look this is half price, can we please get it, pleaaaaase?” Jeongguk turns around, just to get a bright reindeer plushie is shoved in his face.

“Christmas is over, what the hell.” Jeongguk says shoving the plushie back on the shelf. “No.”

“Please?” Jimin bats his eyelashes at him. Ew.

“No, we have millions of plushies at home, let’s go.” Jeongguk sighs,but Jimin doesn’t budge.

“This one’s cuter.”

“No.”

“But-”

“No. I’m going.” Jeongguk sighs whipping around and walking away. He counts to three seconds. One. Two. And-

“Wait!” Jeongguk grins.

After what feels like an eternity of stupid Jimin getting distracted by colourful packaging and snacks and staring around in wide eyed wonder like some toddler locked in a toy store, they finally get to the dairy aisle.

Jeongguk picks out three cartons of milk, decidedly not skim because ‘if you buy skim milk again, i’m stealing your bb cream’ (According to Yoongi)

Jeongguk also buys a few containers of yogurt, the kiddie cartoony packets that Namjoon likes and the creamy Greek Yogurt that Seokjin absolutely loves., making sure to get the right brand because last time Jeongguk got the wrong one, and Seokjin actually did follow out on his threats and stabbed Jeongguk’s ass with his eyeliner. Ow.

Meanwhile, Jimin is squinting at the shopping list.

“Yah, Kookie why is there so much rabbit food on here?” he asks as Jeongguk starts walking towards the colourful array of fruit, packed tightly onto shelves.

“Seokjin and I make sure we don’t die.” Jeongguk says solemnly as he picks out a few bananas and apples and other bits of fruit. He’s so immersed in the task that when he lifts he’s head he finds that Jimin is nowhere to be seen.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Jeongguk curses under his breath. Because Seokjin would  _kill_  him if he came back without one of the members. What would BTS be without all that ab flashing and dorkiness and greasiness? “Shit.” Jeongguk repeats, whipping his head around wildly. He  _knew_  he should have invested in one of those child leashes.

He spends a few minutes whipping his head around wildly, and calling Jimin’s name but he gets no reply and panic is really starting to set in and he’s starting to get weird looks from passing strangers. A few more minutes later and Jeongguk is zipping the trolley around in panic, and it’s only then he finds Jimin poking at the peaches.

“Jimin!” Jeongguk gasps, prodding him in the ribs. “Don’t wander off you asshole.”

“Naw.” Jimin grins, eyes curving into crescents. “Were you worried?”

Jeongguk sighs. “Whatever, let’s go.”

Jimin doesn’t budge though and continues poking at the peaches. “Can we get these peaches? They’re fuzzy.”

Jeongguk shrugs. “Sure, just make sure you eat them.”

“Yep, yep.” Jimin says gleefully as he starts putting peaches in a plastic bag. (In actuality, he eats one and forgets about the rest which leads to Jeongguk throwing a rotten peach to his head 2 weeks later.)

The rest of the shopping trip passes without too much trouble. Well, the keyword there is too, because Jeongguk has to keep stopping because he keeps catching Jimin trying to sneak snacks into the trolley when he thinks he isn’t looking.

“Jimin, put that back, we already have 6 packets of pocky.” Jeongguk says, as he sees Jimin subtly slip a packet of green tea pocky into the trolley.

“You sound like my mum.” Jimin grumbles, angrily shoving the packet back onto the shelf.

Afterwards, while Jeongguk is choosing the bread, he suddenly hears a loud, strangled. “OH MY GOD.”

“Jimin!” Jeongguk hisses. “Shut up.”

“No, no.” Jimin says. “You don’t understand.” And before Jeongguk can say anything, a colourful, small box is shoved in his face. Jeongguk blinks at it for a few seconds, before raising an eyebrow.

“Are you serious, glow in the dark condoms?” Jeongguk sighs as Jimin snatches the box away.

“Yeah?” Jimin blinks at him widely.

“No.”

“But star wars, c’mon please. It’ll be fun.” Jeongguk suddenly gets a very scarring mental image of them whipping their dicks around and shakes his head.

“No.” But Jimin merely huffs and drops the packet into the trolley. Jeongguk doesn’t actually stop him because you know,  _glow in the dark_  condoms.But if Seokjin asks, at least he tried. 

After what seems like a long and tiring eternity, they finally make it to the checkout counter. Jimin is slighty sleepy by then, tripping into Jeongguk’s back every now and then, blinking dazedly. 

When Jeongguk’s putting the items onto the conveyer belt, he discovers Jimin is sneakier than he seems. A reindeer plushie has somehow managed to drown in the packets of Pocky that has suspiciously increased last time he checked, and also-

“Mint flavoured condoms?” Jeongguk asks, raising an eyebrow.

“It’ll be kind of like brushing your teeth no?” Jimin yawns.

The cashier looks slightly scandalized.

Needless to say, Jimin doesn’t accompany Jeongguk on any other grocery trips. 


	21. lazy - jikook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: nc-17  
> summary: jikook morning sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i write a lot of morning sex, it's great

The line between sleep and full wakefulness was a weird one. It’s hazy and foggy, a grey at the edges, and in those mere seconds between the slight flutter of eyelids; Jimin is confused and disorientated, before his eyes focus again and he realizes who he is, what he’s doing, where he is.

Though, waking up to a hand around his cock, and slow, slick tugs is something else entirely.

It’s quick to focus on the pleasure blooming from his stomach, white hot and burning. To pin-point each tug and twist of fingers through the grey, blurry veil of sleep. He keeps his eyes shut as hands press against the flat expanse of his stomach, and wet, hot lips press biting kisses on his hip bones, making Jimin gasp quietly.

It’s only then, Jimin reaches down to twist his hand in hair, and tug gently, he hears someone laugh against his skin and Jimin peeks up through his eyelids, at the black mop of messy hair.

“Jeongkook?” Jimin hisses, voice scratchy. he scrambles up and presses his back against the headboard, while Jeongkook stares, eyes a dark inky black, lips, red and swollen and were j _ust around Jimin’s cock two seconds ago_. “What the fuck?”

Jeongkook merely grins slowly. He moves, body arching against the sheets, lithe and smooth until he’s pressing fingers against Jimin’s stomach, and Jimin’s eyelids flutter as he moves in to mouth at his earlobe. “I was horny.” He says softly, breath ghosting his neck. It sounds almost petulant and bratty, but the way Jeongkook’s hands are pressing against his skin, and the way his teeth scrape against his ear is anything but childlike.

Jimin scrunches his eyes shut as hands press down on his hip bones, pinning him down to the bed. “Fuck.” He mumbles. “You couldn’t have asked first?” The room is still a dark, grey, just the hints of orange peeking through the curtains. And Jimin’s still a little dazed, and groggy, eyes unfocused.

Jeongkook rolls his eyes. “I was horny.” he repeats. “Besides…” Jeongkook says, moving down Jimin’s body, skin shifting over muscles smoothly as he presses a trail of kisses down the line of Jimin’s stomach. “I’ll blow you.”

Jimin sighs, and grasps at Jeongkook’s chin. “You always get what you want, asshole.”

Jeongkook fingers tap against his hip bone as he raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Who’s the one blowing who?”

Jimin bucks his hips up lightly. “Jungkooooooook.” he whines.

“Fine, fine, fine.” Jeongkook mumbles, and Jimin is just about to reply, but  the words get lost, turning into a breathy gasp as heat spreads from his stomach, heady and demanding; and Jimin messily grasps at the sheets as Jeongkook drags out a long, hot stripe down his cock.

“ _Oh_."Jimin breathes, when Jeongkook wraps his mouth around his cock, and it’s so wet and sinful and _amazing;_ and when he stares down at Jeongkook, cheeks hollowed, ass in the air, hair a black, blurry mess, it’s all sorts of beautiful. He grasps a steadying hand in Jeongkook’s hair, because if not, he’ll be two seconds away from thrusting into that wet, heat of his mouth.

Jimin watches, eyes glazed, fingers tightening with each stroke, each wet swipe. It’s not long before Jeongkook catches him watching, eyes curving into crescents as he smiles around the hard line of Jimin’s cock. And it really should not be okay for someone to look that beautiful while sucking cock, because _really_.

The orgasm comes slowly, a short stir of heat coiling at his stomach, making his toes curl and fingers tug harder, hips arching into broken thrusts.

And when it does hit, it has Jimin gasping, neck bent back into a beautiful moan, white blurring at the edge of his vision, dizzy and hazy and heady. 

Jeongkook pulls back with a small wrinkle of his nose, as come hits his cheek, dripping down his cheek in a mess of white.

"Ew.” Jeongkook frowns, rubbing his cheek. Jimin merely gives a small laugh.

“Sorry.” He mumbles around a yawn, sated and lazy. He lets his head rest back onto the pillow, eyes fluttering sleepily.

“Hey!” Jeongkook says, pinching his stomach. “Don’t fall asleep!” Because he’s still hard, and that’s just _not fair_.

“I won’t.” Jimin mumbles, before promptly closing his eyes, breath soon evening into soft snores.

“You _fucker!_ ” Jeongkook snaps.


	22. gracious love - jikook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: domestic au! where jungkook becomes insecure because of the rejection he gets from his child and jimin tries to make it all better

She was beautiful in every way. Thin lashes fanning down to red, bright chubby cheeks. Little pin pricks of teeth flash when she laughs, her whole face lighting up as Jimin rocks her in his arms. Her tiny fist, beating lightly on Jimin’s head as he swings her up high.  Laughter rings, sweet and bright and beautiful. Jeongguk can’t look away.

He loves her already, with a ferocity he doesn’t recognise.

Jimin was beautiful too. It’s a happiness that’s almost rare, something new and breathtaking. It’s when Jimin holds her close, tells her stories, eyes twinkling as he presses light kisses to her hair. Jeongguk couldn’t have been prouder. Seeing those two together is an image of happiness. A happy father and daughter; a beautiful family. 

Jeongguk just wishes he belonged in that picture.

“Ya, you’re a brat Bora!” Jimin pouts, one hand ruffling her fluffy brown hair, much to her giggling delight.He catches Jeongguk’s eyes before leaning down to cup her face. “Listen, listen I’ve got a really good idea!" 

"Dad stop!” Bora mumbles through smooshed cheeks and short flailing arms. Jeongguk loves the way Jimin’s eyes widen at those words, filled with love and something incredible. 

“Wanna play with papa?” Jimin says angling her shoulders towards Jeongguk who instantly stiffens, unsure.

She frowns at that, just slightly but it’s enough to tear Jeongguk’s chest apart.

“C’mon.” Jimin croons.

“Nah, it’s okay.” Jeongguk says plastering a smile onto his face. “I’ll go make something to eat. Don’t worry, have fun.” Pretending to not notice how his voice cracks, he slips out into the kitchen, the door clicking behind him with a sharp click.

Behind closed doors, Jeongguk exhales harshly, fingers clenching against the edge of the table, until his knuckles turn a stark white. Laughter starts to resound from the other room again, and it makes something terrible uncoil in his stomach. She never laughed like that in front of him. Jeongguk doesn’t know how she looks at him. With fear? Dislike? Indecision? Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t love or affection, and the word Papa wasn’t slipping out from her lips anytime soon.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t good enough. Too cold, too harsh, too… Not Jimin. Jimin was breathtaking, a bright light in a dim room, optimistic, sweet, caring and everything Jeongguk isn’t. He makes an amazing father, kids instantly love him, all jokes and stories and stupid jokes, coupled with a wide smile and crinkled eyes. It’s natural for everyone to love him.

While Jeongguk was… Jeongguk. On stage he may exude charisma and charm, but offstage he’s so _ordinary_. He’s not like Jimin, too cold, too calculated, too distant. Sometimes even a bit awkward at showing his feelings. Jeongguk hates that, hates himself sometimes. If only he could love more, do more, _be_ more.

Jeongguk never did understand how someone like Jimin would fall for him, sweet, caring Jimin. Who would look at Jeongguk likes he’s perfect in every way, would be willing to share a life, willing to raise a child; a permanence that awes Jeongguk.

_And look at where that went_ , Jeongguk thinks bitterly. He fucks up like he always does. Jimin loves and loves and loves, while what does Jeongguk do? The love he feels is almost overwhelming, like the constant crash of waves against his ribs every time he holds Jimin, every time he looks at Bora. But Jeongguk finds it hard to translate this love into actions and sweet words. It frustrates him to no end.

Jeongguk’s fingers tremble as he places the pan atop the stove and begins to cook, after all that’s the least he can do.

Dinner passes in relish, filled with animated stories and a giggling Bora who waves her arms around wildly. Jeongguk is silent, lips thinning into a gentle smile.

“Bora! Tell Papa about your adventure.” Jimin nudges her.

“Okay.” She says hesitantly and begins to slowly retell a story, which leaves Jeongguk grinning. Though she never does meet his eye, opting to poke at her food and shuffle closer to Jimin instead. Jeongguk’s smile wavers just slightly as he finishes eating, excusing himself. Not noticing Jimin’s concerned frown.

He washes the dishes, and cleans up after them, while Jimin takes her to her bedroom, a bedtime story in hand. Jeongguk doesn’t watch them go, hands elbow deep in soapy water.

After he cleans up the kitchen, Jeongguk tries to sleep early, but he can’t seem to. Instead, he has fingers fisted in his sheets, replaying every small moment of rejection. The way she pulls her hand away, the shy unknowing looks. And even the big moments, tears bright and bountiful as they flow down her cheeks when he holds her.

It hurts more than Jeongguk can imagine. How can he be a father when she won’t even let him hold her hand? He scrunches his eyes shut as fingers tighten against the sheets, trembling and soft.

When Jimin comes in an hour later, the first thing he does is slip into the bed. Wrapping his arms around Jeongguk tight enough that he lets out a strangled wheeze. 

He knows. 

Jeongguk has always been good at concealing his feelings. But after years and years, Jimin always seems to know what he’s feeling. No matter how hard Jeongguk tries to hide behind wide smiles.

“Jimin!” Jeongguk wheezes flailing on the sheets. “I can’t breathe!” Jimin merely tucks his chin against Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“Jeongguk.” Jimin mumbles. “I love you so much.”

Jeongguk’s eyelids flutter at those words. “I know. Me too.” He says. The ‘but’ hangs in the air unspoken.

“Hey.” Jimin’s reaches over to cup his cheek. “Hey, Jeongguk, babe look at me.” Concern laced gently through each word.

Jeongguk lets out a breathy exhale against the sheets before turning over to meet quivering lips and wide eyes. “Hey.” he says softly, leaning in to press a soft peck on Jimin’s lips.

Jimin smiles. At this moment Jeongguk doesn’t want to talk. Instead wants to drown in the taste of Jimin so all the insecurity can disappear with feverish kisses.

So Jeongguk takes. 

Jimin gasps as Jeongguk leans in for another kiss, harder and deeper, rushed with a sense of urgency and need. He lets Jeongguk take over, fisting his hands through his hair, tongue skimming over his lips. But when Jeongguk leans over to straddle him, Jimin presses a hand to his chest, pausing.

Jeongguk’s fingers tremble. Jimin doesn’t even want him.

“I’m sorry.” Jeongguk whispers, dipping his face against Jimin’s neck, voice cracking against skin.

“What? No. I want to, it’s just I wanted to talk first.” Jimin says, pressing a reassuring kiss to his cheek.

“About what?” Jeongguk says, and playing dumb would’ve worked if his voice didn’t shake.

“Oh Jeongguk.” Jimin breathes, holding him close.

Jeongguk scrunches his eyes shut, and he lets everything seep out until exhaustion claws at his bones, heavy and broken. “I can’t.” He says, words soft and fragile.

“Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk doesn’t open his eyes. “I can’t be this… This for her, for us.”

Jimin stiffens. “What are you talking about? You’re not… You’re not leaving right?”

Jeongguk huffs a bitter laugh. “I wouldn’t.” He says, because how could he? Jimin was amazing, Bora was too, and Jeongguk doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Please don’t ever leave.” Desperation drips from Jimin’s words and Jeongguk wonders why.

“I can’t be a father, I’m so, so…” Jeongguk says harshly.

“Jeongguk please.” Jimin reaches to cup trembling fingers against his cheek but Jeongguk turns away.

“I’m not like you, don’t you see?” Jeongguk snaps. “I don’t deserve, I don’t…I’m not-”

“Jeongguk!"Jimin snaps suddenly. "Look at me.”

Jeomgguk turns to look at Jimin with a sad smile. “How can I be a father when she won’t even let me hold her, Jimin?”

Jimin holds Jeongguk’s face tight in his hands, fingers skimming gently over his cheeks. “Listen to me Jeon Jeongguk.” Jeongguk blinks up at him. “You can’t see what I see in you, what everyone sees in you.”

“What is there to see?” Jeongguk laughs, a bitter sad sound.

“Look, you shut up.” Jimin pouts, pressing a finger to his lips.

Jeongguk frowns but does what he’s told you.

“You know what I see? I see someone who’s fucking amazing. Talented, fantastic and just- you know when we first got together? I couldn’t believe I was with someone like you. Because-”

“Like me? Jimin-” Jeongguk starts but is cut off with a finger smooshed to his lips.

“Shhh, just listen, you’re so fucking hardworking and protective and what you have given me, given us is just incredible. I can’t bear to see you say this about yourself because you’re just so, so-” Jimin tightens his arms around Jeongguk. “-beautiful. And you can’t see any of it.“

A blush starts to colour Jeongguk’s face, darkening as Jimin leans in to press another kiss. “I.., I mean Bora she…” Jeongguk starts, blinking stupidly.

Jimin laughs. “She sees you as a hero. Remember that time with the teacher? Oh my god, you were so embarrassing, but she looked up to you so much after that.” 

Jimin wipes Jeongguk’s pout away with a kiss before continuing. “You know the thing about heroes are, they take some time getting used to.” Jimin says with a small wink. “When I first met you, I was so scared oh my god, because you were just so…” Jimin waves a vague hand. “Perfect you know?”

"Perfect?” Jeongguk scoffs. “Are you serious?”

Jimin seems to contemplate that for a second. “Yeah, true you’re kind of flawed, I mean you make a mean fried rice but your baking skills? Didn’t you burn chocolate that one time?”

“Shut up.” Jeongguk laughs.

“But seriously, Bora will warm up to you. She’s just a bit shy because she thinks you’re some Batman, which kind of offends me because I’m obviously more heroic.” Jimin pouts.

“Nope.” Jeongguk grins, leaning in to press a chaste kiss. “You two are my beautiful damsels in distress.”

“Oh my hero!” Jimin sighs mockingly, hands raised to his head. Jeongguk takes that opportunity to press little kisses on his exposed neck. 

“Jeongguk.” Jimin mumbles between tongue, teeth and lips. “If you say shit about yourself again, I’m going to punch you in the crotch.”

Jeongguk smiles widely. “You can punch me in the crotch if you want, with your mouth that is.”

“You’re an idiot.” Jimin sighs. “But I love you anyway.”

Jeongguk’s smile is so wide, his eyes turn into tiny crescents. “Me too.” He leans in so the words are breathed against the warmth of Jimin’s lips.


	23. rain check? - jikook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg-13  
> summary: jeongguk just wanted to be a good boyfriend goddammnit

Jeongguk just wanted to be a good boyfriend goddamnnit.

And it wasn’t his fault he didn’t have one romantic bone is his body. While on the other hand, Jimin is the romance mastermind with so many gushy, cheesy words up his sleeve that would make Jeongguk gag if he wasn’t so busy kissing that cheesy hairball.

Jimin doesn’t seem to mind though. After all, he doesn’t look at the disgustingly sweet couples and ask what about me? He doesn’t talk about starlit dinners and all that romance-y stuff, because he loves Jeongguk as he is. Jeongguk shows love in warm concern, and the shy lacing of their fingers in public. To Jimin, that is enough.

But Jeongguk feels bad. Jimin might not say anything, but Jeongguk knows he has a stash of trashy romance novels stashed under their bed. Their anniversary was coming up and Jeongguk was going to be romantic as fuck, even if it kills him.

What’s the first thing that comes to mind when it comes to romance? Rose petals of course, fuck tons of rose petals that Jeongguk litters everywhere, the living room, their bed, the kitchen _. Everywhere._

Home cooked dinners are pretty romantic too right? Nah. At least Jeongguk tried, failed, tried again, and ended up discarding the scary looking mush into the bin without a second glance.

The kitchen is a mess, and Jeongguk is pretty sure there are rose petals in the sink and on the stove, and in his pants.

Great.

He definitely needs to invest in some help.

“HYUNG HELP HOW DO YOU ROMANCE?” Jeongguk screeches into the phone. And the tell tale laughter of Taehyung, is all the comfort he needs.

“Oh Jeonggukiiie,” Taehyung coos, between bouts of pterodactyl screeching laughter.

“Taehyung,” Jeongguk moans on the floor of the kitchen, “Help me. I can’t cook for shit, and I think I might be allergic to roses.” Jeongguk sniffles.

Taehyung only laughs louder, loud and obnoxious.

“If you’re not going to help me I’m hanging up and never returning your DS,” Jeongguk sighs.

“Wait, wait Kookie! Don’t worry I’ve got an idea!” Taehyung says, just when Jeongguk’s finger is hovering over the hang up button. “Jimin recently watched the Notebook and he’s always saying that he wants to kiss in the rain or something cliche like that!”

Jeongguk snorts. “Who would want to kiss in the rain?”

Taehyung sighs dreamily. “You wouldn’t know, but it’s romantic af, with like see through shirts and sloppy kisses you feel?”

“No.”

Taehyung whines. “Jeongggguk, didn’t you say you wanted to romance Chim Cham’s pants off? This is the way. Are you just scared you’re going to look like a drowned cat in the rain?” Jeongguk merely huffs at this, because it is kind of true. “Besides it’s going to rain tonight!” Taehyung adds, excited and giddy.

“If you say so.” Jeongguk says, unconvinced. 

“Always trust your hyung!” Taehyung says, and Jeongguk gets a strange sense of foreboding.

-

True to Taehuyng’s words, the first few droplets of rain fall while Jeongguk waits for Jimin. He managed to clean up the kitchen, all spanky and clean for them, putting some electric candles on the table for that sensual ~romantic~ feel.  

Jeongguk ends up ordering pizza in the end, pizza is romantic isn’t it? And if that doesn’t make it, Jeongguk also ordered lava cake. Lava cake is the epitome of romance. Probably.

To go the extra mile, because Jeon Jeongguk is _romantic as fuck_ thank you very much, he also memorized parts of The Notebook scene. Park Jimin, get ready to be romanced the hell out of.

When Jimin does get home, briefcase over his head in an attempt to hide from the rain, Jeongguk is waiting for him on the doorstep, ready for action.

_“Jeongguk?”_ Jimin says, “What are you doing out here, you’re going to catch a cold!”

Jeongguk clears his throat and exhales. Here goes. “I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you ever day for a year.”

Jimin blinks, the rain is pouring pretty hard now, and Jeongguk’s hair is sticking to his face so he can barely see. And god it’s fucking _cold_. And Jimin is standing there, not looking at Jeongguk all romantically and doe eyed like he expected. 

This is all Taehyung’s fault.

But then, Jimin brightens, and then laughs, wide and warm, like the sun that is doing such a good time of hiding right now.

“J..Jeongguk,” Jimin wheezes. “Don’t tell me we’re reenacting the notebook _oh god.”_

Jeongguk merely glares, and Jimin only laughs more, because as Taehyung puts it, Jeongguk does look like a drowned cat in the rain.

“Y..You wrote me?” Jimin giggles, bringing a hand to his mouth.

Jeongguk replies in a monotone. “Yes.”

“You-”

“It wasn’t over. It still isn’t over.” Jeongguk says, words tripping over themselves in their haste to get out. And hell yes, it’s finally the kissing scene and Jeongguk hopes he never has to act again . Jimin grins and leans in, wrapping a cold hand around Jeongguk’s damp neck and pulls him into a kiss.

It does not turn out like Jeongguk expected.

One, because it is cold as fuck. Two, Jimin is laughing so hard their teeth keep knocking and three, Jeongguk can’t even _feel_ his lips. But nevertheless, Jimin rests his forehead against his and goes completely off script.

“God I love you,” Jimin says, teeth chattering. “You’re stupid but I love you.”

Jeongguk grins and is just about to reply when, to make matters worse, it starts hailing.

_“FUCKING TAEHYUNG!”_ Jeongguk screams as he drags Jimin in with cold shaky fingers, while both being bonked by hail in the process. Jimin only laughs, wide and carefree and affectionate.

When they get in, Jimin ends up tripping on some roses, and if Jeongguk wasn’t there to catch him, he probably would have fallen into a wet, clumsy mess.

In his arms, Jimin blinks up at Jeongguk and gives a shivery smile. “This is pretty romantic,”

Jeongguk holds Jimin tighter and then leans in, eyes soft and whispers, “I’m so fucking _cold.”_

“You ruined the mood!” Jimin’s eyes crinkle, when he laughs, flailing in Jeongguk’s embrace. 

“Shhhh. Wait till you see the pizza,” Jeongguk replies, making Jimin’s head tilt in curiosity.

Jimin laughs so hard at the pizza that the embarrassment flaming Jeongguk’s cheeks is almost enough to make him warm again. Almost.

“Isn’t this romantic?” Jeongguk frowns, pointing at the pizza with pepperoni decorated in a love heart shape.

“You dork,” Jimin wheezes, wrapping a hand around Jeongguk’s neck to bring him into a chaste kiss. “You stupid dork that I love so much.”

They’re both shivering and freezing their butts off. The pizza is cold, and Jimin nearly died from the rose petals. This was a complete disaster. But happiness and love can be seen in Jimin’s hands and heart and lips.

“Happy anniversary babe,” Jeongguk says, soft and sweet

Jimin leans in for another ice cold kiss. “Thank you!” he smiles. “I love it, I love you.”

-

“Uh, I’m not cleaning up the rose petals though.”

“I’ll get Taehyung to do it.”


	24. Rider au - yoonmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: m  
> summary: supposed to be three sentence but i suck

One hand thrusts his chin up harshly, lips twisting in a frown when the blood stains his fingers, the other holds the gun to his head, fingers unwavering, smile wide and sweet. “Now.” Yoongi says, cocking his head. “Are you going to tell me, or-” he pushes the gun gently against his temple. A flinch. “Am I going to have to blow your-”

Music shatters through the room, completely cutting off his sentence and Yoongi’s eyebrow gives a slight annoyed twitch. It’s the stupid pop song that Jimin had set as his customised ringtone and it rings obnoxiously throughout the warehouse, bouncing off the walls.

“Um.” Yoongi says as the man stares up at him with a pleading look. With a sigh he slips the gun into his pocket and aims a swift kick in the man’s ribs sending him into a bloody sprawling mess on the ground before swiping to reject the call, and the room is still again save for the strangled gasps. “Hey.” Yoongi says to one of his gang members gesturing at the mess of pained moans and blood on the floor. “Clean this shit for me got it?”

She opens her mouth as if to protest but one dangerous glare silences her. “Okay thanks, I need to take this call.” Yoongi says. “It’s important.”

Making his way towards the door, Yoongi flicks out his phone and calls  Jimin back with quick swift taps, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Yoongi?” Jimin voice sounds from the phone and a smile graces Yoongi’s lips.

“What do you want? I was in the middle of something.” Yoongi sighs.

“Hmph.” He hears Jimin huff. “I just-”

Yoongi stiffens. “You’re safe right? No ones got you?”

Jimin laughs, a light gentle sound. “No. This is stupid hyung. But-”

“But…?”

“It’s really dark and I swear there are dodgy people outside the campus!” Jimin says so quick the words run in together.

Yoongi sighs. “I’ll come get you dumbass.”

Jimin sighs in relief. “I love you.”

 “Don’t leave the campus before I get there got it?”

Jimin laughs. “Of course hyung.” Before the line cuts off.

 Yoongi pockets his phone, walking out of the door to a gorgeous bike tucked against the wall. Slipping on dark leather gloves, and a sleek helmet, he kicks the ignition on his motorbike, as it whirs to life with a smooth purr. And with a flick of his wrist he’s off, disappearing into the inky darkness of the night to fetch his pain in the ass of a boyfriend.


	25. three sentence fics - yoonmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College and corgi!jimin au

**College au:**

It surprises Yoongi that it’s not the loud, annoying creak of his dorm door that wakes him up; that shitty thing had kept him up for nights during his first year. Instead,it’s the insistent shuffling of his sheets and clingy limbs tangling with his that wakes him up. 

Before he even opens his eyes, Yoongi already knows who it is.

“Jimin, what the fuck it’s the middle of the night.” Yoongi sighs, cracking open an eyelid to see a dark, messy fluff of hair blurring into the darkness. 

“I saw Namjoon leave. We have the room to ourselves.” Jimin says, fingers finding their way into Yoongi’s hair. 

“He probably just went to the toilet,” Yoongi says, but he arches his head back as Jimin presses slight kisses to his neck.

“Exactly,” Jimin bites out across his skin. “We’ll have to be quick then.” 

 

**Corgi!jimin au:**

Yoongi flicks his tail delicately, as he watches, head tilted in slight curiosity. Jimin is small, all stubby legs, and a little tail that wags furiously every time Yoongi emerges in his line of view, tongue lolling out in excitement. He doesn’t seem excited today, and his little tail lays limb. His teeth are pulled back into what looks like an aggressive snarl. Yoongi just kind of finds it pathetically cute though. 

But the second the Doberman emerges, sleek and all dark muscle, followed by a smaller pack of dogs, Yoongi tenses, eyes narrowing into slits. Jimin doesn’t back down though, a fluffy mass of teeth and small yips. But when the loud bark rips through the air, he flinches and his ears flattens against his head. 

Yoongi sighs. 

“Hey, Kim. Want to pick on someone your own size?” Yoongi says,stepping out, revealing the barest flash of teeth. 

The Doberman hisses. “What the fuck, Yoongi. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, and he can see Jimin’s wide eyes burning holes into his fur. “Are you going to answer my question or…?”

The Doberman hisses, and then nods at Jimin, sharp and curt, before they disappear into the darkening alleyways, with whispered snaps and small yips. Yoongi smiles to himself. “What was that?” He says to Jimin, the small puppy quivering in anger.  

Jimin puffs out his chest. “I had that! And they stole my turkey leg. My turkey leg Yoongi!”

Yoongi gives a hard nudge with his snout and the puppy falls to the ground in a sprawling mess of stubby legs and strangled yelps. “You’re stupid.” Yoongi says at the indignant noises Jimin makes. 

“I hate you!” Jimin sniffs.

Yoongi grins and begins to trot away. “I have some extra pasta, but since you’re not interested…” And Yoongi laughs to himself when Jimin instantly bounds up to him, pressing his snout against Yoongi’s leg in excited sniffs and yelps. 


	26. other three sentence fics - mixed pairings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pairings: yoonseok, taekook, vmin

**Yoonseok**

badboy au:

A smirk plays along the corner of Hoseok’s lips as he pushes Yoongi into the wall of the classroom, fingers slipped under his shirt, touch burning into the strip of skin across his stomach. “Don’t you…” Hoseok leans in, breath fanning his cheek, hot and heady. Yoongi’s eyelids flutter. “Don’t you want to have some fun?”

“I…” Yoongi starts but the words turn into a gasp as Hoseok fingers press against the waistband of his pants.

“If you want me to stop, just say so.” He says softly.

“No.” Yoongi says. “No, please.”

Hoseok’s fingers play with the edge of his shirt as heat bubbles under his stomach, insistent and hot. “You’re not scared, someone is going to catch us like this? A teacher? A friend?” Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that, but it turns out he doesn’t have to say anything at all, because Hoseok breathes the very words into his mouth.

 

**Taekook:**

sick au:

It’s beautiful, deliciously so. Silver and glistening and shining like a beacon of hope atop the dinner table. Taehyung takes a few moments to admire it’s beauty, the glistening curve of the silver can and the cursive line scrawled across it’s side. Chicken and corn soup. Taehyung lets out a sigh of contentment, footsteps stumbling towards it, hands reached out. He’s so close. He can almost taste the warm chicken soup already soothing the harsh, scratchiness of his throat, just one more step and-

It disappears. It fucking disappears, trapped in nimble fingers and a smug grin. Taehyung’s mouth drops open.

“That was mine!” He says, vision turning into a dizzy red haze as he turns a pointed finger at Jeongguk.

Jeongguk sniffles. “I’m sicker than you hyung, you should be looking out for your dongsaengs.”

“Jeongguk.” Taehyung says, a warning that Jeongguk doesn’t heed, happily opening the can. “Hey!” He swipes for it and Jeongguk, despite his feverish face dodges with a smooth grin. Stupid dancing maknae. Taehyung tries again, fails again and slumps onto the table with a depleted sigh.

“I’m going to die!” Taehyung moans into the table.

There’s a brief moment of silence before Taehyung hears the satisfying sound of a steaming can being pushed towards him. “Look you can have half of it.”

Taehyung grins. “Thanks Kookie but-” he swipes it and makes a run towards his room. “This shit is mine!”

“Fuck you!” Jeongguk yells.

Taehyung turns around to laugh at him, but manages to miscalculate the distance from the hallway to his door. “FUCK!” Taehyung screeches as the soup falls from his fingers, watching in awed desperation as it spills into a mess on the floor. He falls to his knees, a hand clutched to his chest.

“Karma is a bitch.” Jeongguk says afterwards, joining Taehyung on the floor in mourning.

greek gods au:

The skies tremble under Jeongguk’s fingers, the ground rumbles, and the humans fear the power so raw and uncontrolled, a temper that flares like a vicious fire. 

So it shouldn’t make sense at all, how a mere human with time so limited, to be able to cradle the fierce fire in his mere hands and tiny fingers. How a fire so terrifying can be soothed with one brush of lips. 

“We call it love down here,” Taehyung murmurs against gold skin, gold veins, gold blood. 

“It is weakness,” Jeongguk replies, and Taehyung laughs, a simple display of human emotion. Yet it is enough for warmth to spread across Jeongguk’s chest like warm ambrosia, deliciously sweet. 

“Oh,” Taehyung sighs. “Oh how the great have fallen.” 

Jeongguk’s eyes turn to stare at the boundless beauty of the stars, the gods and their mocking gazes, and then back to Taheyung, in all his simplicity. 

“I could give you the world, the skies, the kingdoms,” Jeongguk says, head cocked. “But you don’t want any of that.” 

“No,” Taehyung breathes, his fingers are cold against Jeongguk’s cheek, fragile and soft. “I only want you.” 

And with a careless brush of lips, the centuries of power and destruction is reduced to one simple flutter of the chest. 

**Vmin**

closet fan!jimin: 

“You guys are so embarrassing.” Jimin says, staring down at the two cross legged boys surrounded by a stack of albums and scattered cards.

“Shut up.” Jeongguk says to Jimin before turning to Seokjin, a card in hand. “Hey I’ll trade a Namjoon photocard for that Yoongi one.”

“I don’t know.” Seokjin frowns. “I like this one, but I’ll give it to you for that poster.”

“Done!” Jeongguk says with a gleeful smirk. The boys exchange their goods, throwing them onto their respective piles.

“Oh my god.” Jimin says , leaning down to thumb through the stack of albums. “This is so gross, they look like wannabe rappers.”

Seokjin sniffs. “You can leave if you want but- hey! Is that a signed Taehyung photocard?!” At that Jimin’s head snaps around to stare but both of the boys don’t notice, too enamoured in the small card in Jeongguk’s hand.

“You are not touching this.” Jeongguk says, clutching it to his chest. “That online auction made me eat cup noodles for two weeks straight!”

Jimin’s eyebrow twitches, hands faltering at his side as Jeongguk slips the card into his pocket. He stares at the card, snug and thin peeking from Jeongguk’s pocket, lips jutting out in a pout.

Damn. He’ll definitely have to blog about this later. He had been _this_ close to completing his signed Taehyung photocard collection.

youtuber boyfs au:

_“Ahh! And that’s all we have time for today! Be sure to subscribe down belooow and we’ll be playing amnesia for the next video-”_

_“Jimin screams are hilarious, so make sure you guys don’t miss it!”  
_

_“Hey you screamed too…Ah! Tae stop it GOOD GOD stop it’s ticklish KIM TAEHYUNG.”  
_

_“See? Hehe, I’ll see you guys soon!”  
_

_“Yep! Bye! TAEHYUNG I SAID STOP.”  
_

_-_

The camera shuts up with a click, and both boys fall onto the bed behind them with a loud _whump_ , sprawling into a mess of limbs. 

Jimin sighs, nudging Taehyung in the ribs. “Why do you always gotta attack me on camera?” 

Taehyung smiles, all bright and boxy. “I couldn’t resisssst. “

“People are going to say things now you know,”  Jimin huffs, blowing a puff of hot air into Taehyung’s face. 

“They already ship us like crazy,” Taehyung says, shuffling closer, until his nose is pressed against Jimin’s shoulder. “Hey! Did you know someone wrote a 50k fic of us dude? And before you ask, I topped!” 

“What the fuck. One, you read it? Two, NO WAY IN HELL.” 

Taehyung only laughs and Jimin promptly kicks him off the bed. 


	27. Mistletae - taekook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: pg-13  
> Summary: trashy Christmas fic. Sequel to Kookies and Cream

-

Jeongguk walks into Taehyung’s apartment and is met with the vicious jingle of christmas songs and the overpowering smell of cinnamon.

“What the hell?” Jeongguk says, peeking into the kitchen, where Taehyung is stirring the batter furiously, eyes furrowed in concentration. When he sees Jeongguk, he brightens, waving the spoon at Jeongguk, flicking flecks of batter onto the flour stained table.

“Jeongguk!” Taehyung says, resuming his furious stirring. “What’s up?”

Jeongguk opens his mouth, closes it, and then shakes his head. A new Christmas carol starts up, reverberating through the apartment.“Um… your cat ran into my apartment again.” Jeongguk says, and the grey, fluff ball in his arms gives a purr in response, batting at Jeongguk’s chest affectionately.

“Cookie!” Taehyung exclaims , as the cat wriggles out of Jeongguk’s grip, barely spares a glance at Taehyung and walks straight out the room and curls in front of Jeongguk’s apartment.

“Uh,” Jeongguk says. “Do you want me to..?”

“Cookie hates cinnamon, don’t worry about it,” Taehyung says, dipping his finger in the batter to taste it. “She’ll be back later.”

“Okay?” Jeongguk says dropping onto the couch, frowning when a cloud of flour poofs from the seat as he sits down. “Tae, dude,” Jeongguk says finally, curiosity getting the better of him. “ Seriously what the hell is happening? You look like a yeti.” There is flour dusted across Taehyung cheeks and nose, white powder littered across his head.

“IT’S CHRISTMAS!” Taehyung exclaims with absolute glee.

Jeongguk’s eyebrow twitches. “It’s December the 6th.”

“Exactly!” Taehyung replies, happily spooning the batter into the cake pan. “Christmas! Come taste the cookies I baked earlier please?”

Jeongguk lifts his shirt up, and stares down at his firm stomach. “Goodbye,” He says with a sigh, before he gets up and takes the massive cookie Taehyung offers him.

-

“Wait what?” Jeongguk’s fingers still on Cookie’s head, who purrs in annoyance, pawing at Jeongguk’s jeans until he resumes his petting.

“Yes! Christmas means eggnog, and getting drunk and eating and friends. Which means Christmas party of course!” Taehyung nods firmly.

“Is that what all..” Jeongguk gestures at the mess in the kitchen. “This is about?”

“Yep!” Taehyung leans forward eyes wide and bright. “Say yes, say yes.”

Jeongguk shrugs. “I guess it means presents so kay.”

“Good!” Taehyung says, clasping his hands together. “Because everyone is coming tonight and you need to help me decorate.”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “Tonight?! And how many people is everyone?”

“All our friends! And our neighbours! And possibly our mailman, but he hasn’t RSVPed yet do I don’t know.” Taehyung bounds up excitedly, frightening the hell out of Cookie who hisses and shoves her head under Jeongguk’s hand.

Jeongguk’s mouth drops open. “And you only cared to tell me this today?! What the fuck Tae!”

Taehyung has the audacity to grin wider, and to make it all worse, he produces a hideous sweater from seemingly out of nowhere. Jeongguk swallows. Oh no. Oh heeeeell no. That… that thing is brown and lumpy, with a black monstrosity of a design that barely resembles a reindeer.

“No,” Jeongguk says. “You’re not making me wear that. Kim Taehyung I swear to-” His words are muffled by the sweater thrown to his face and the terrified high pitched meowing of Cookie as she flails to escape the mass of fabric.

“Jeongguk,” Taehyung says in all seriousness, as he’s putting bandaids on Jeongguk’s knee where Cookie had scratched in her fierce attempt to escape. “I spent two months knitting it, so will you please please please wear it?”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything at first, before he stares down at the brown atrocity in his hands. “I hate you.” Is all he says and Taehyung laughs, soft and warm.

-

Taehyung’s definition of decorating is throwing tinsel everywhere and calling it a day.

“Do you need help?” Jeongguk says, itching at his arm where the sweater tickles. He stares up as Taehyung totters on his toes, arms flailing as he sticks the last piece-the angel, on the Christmas tree. When he’s done, Taehyung turns to grin at him, and hops off, resting his hands on his hips and gazes proudly at his sparkly handiwork.

“Done! Now time for drinks!” Taehyung says, almost tripping on the clump of fairy lights at his feet.

Jeongguk frowns as Cookie paws down one of the baubles and begins nibbling at it. “Are those baubles edible?”

Taehyung pokes his head out from the kitchen. “Yep, yep. C’mon Jeongguk, the drinks!”

Taehyung puts an obscene amount of alcohol into the fruit punch, and when Jeongguk tastes one of his colorful concoctions, the liquid burns down his throat, sending him into a coughing fit.

“Good?” Taehyung asks, as he pats Jeongguk on the back.

“Uh,” Taehyung looks at him expectantly and Jeongguk smiles weakly. “Good.”

-

The decorations are set, the Christmas tree is so glittery it hurts, and the annoying sound of Taehyung’s Christmas playlist sounds loudly. They’re ready, and Jeongguk is already exhausted. The first knock sounds on the door, just when Taehyung is taking his mince pies out of the oven.

When Jeongguk opens the door, he is met with a massive toy reindeer shoved into his chest, bright orange hair, fake antlers and Jimin’s obnoxiously festive grin.

“Kookie!” Jimin says, bright and excited. ”Meeeeeeerry Christmas!”

Jeongguk sighs. “It’s December the 6th.”

Jimin’s resolutely ignores that comment and instead his eyes fall to Jeongguk’s chest, eyeballing the filthy brown of his sweater. Then Jimin honest to god, almost shits himself with laughter. Embarrassment flames Jeongguk’s cheeks, as Jimin has his arms clutched to his stomach, shamefully laughing his annoying ass off. “Jeongguk… oh my god the-”

“Don’t fucking mention it, or I swear,” Jeongguk whispers dangerously, shoving the plushie into Jimin’s stupid face.

“I wasn’t going to,” Jimin says, moving the plushie away to show Jeongguk his sweater, which actually is quite beautiful and does not look like a fluffy shit stain. “Tae gave me one too.”

Jeongguk frowns. “Why is yours-”

Jimin merely winks, making his way into the kitchen. “Shh, it looks cute Jeongguk don’t worry.”

Jeongguk itches at the sleeve of his sweater, huffing out an annoyed sigh.

-

Taehyung only emerges from the kitchen, after the tables are piled high with delicious baked goods and everyone is more than a little drunk. (Jeongguk thinks he saw Daehyun grind on the christmas tree and files it away for blackmail later.) The comforting heat of alcohol burns through his veins and down his throat, and Jeongguk finds himself on the couch, tinsel wrapped around his legs, Cookie purring angrily at the loud Christmas carols people are madly dancing to.

“Hey you,” Taehyung murmurs, sinking into the couch. He throws his legs over Jeongguk’s lap, and leans in to nuzzle against his neck. It’s then Jeongguk knows that he’s a little tipsy too. Taehyung’s clingy normally, especially with Jeongguk, but when drunk, he’s downright affectionate, wrapping his limbs around Jeongguk and not letting go. One time Taehyung had ten rum brownies, grabbed Cookie, curled in Jeongguk’s lap and didn’t get off until the pounding hangover wakes him up the next morning.

Heat runs down his neck, as Taehyung laughs, fingers reaching under his shirt to rest against his stomach.

“Um.” Jeongguk says.

“Shh.” Taehyung murmurs into his ear. “I want-” he hiccups, “I want to show you something.”

Jeongguk takes Taehyung’s hand, and after a few drunken steps, Jeongguk finds himself pushed into the wall. Taehyung is looking at him expectantly, eyelashes curving down to his cheeks. Maybe it was the fairy lights, maybe it was the sweet burn of the alcohol, or maybe it was just his stupid heart, because Taehyung looked beautiful.

Taehyung’s smile is slow and sweet. “Oh,” He says, tilting Jeongguk’s head up. A small string of mistletoe dangles over the two. “Will you look at that.”

Jeongguk laughs then, and reaches up to cradle Taehyung’s face, squishing his cheeks.

“Did you plan this?” Jeongguk asks, swiping his thumb across Taehyung’s bottom lip.

Taehyung’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, they shine bright and beautiful. “Since August.”

“Oh?” Jeongguk leans in, until their lips are close enough to graze. Taehyung exhales shakily, eyes fluttering, his heart stutters under Jeongguk’s fingers. He smells intoxicating and sweet, like maple syrup and pumpkin spice. “You don’t need to bake things to talk to me.” Jeongguk murmurs. “And you don’t need mistletoe to kiss me dumbass. ”

Taehyung’s eyelids flutter. “I’m kind of an idiot aren’t I?” He says, hands curling at Jeongguk’s side.

“You are,” Jeongguk agrees. “But I happen to like you anyways.” He says, before pressing a kiss against the warmth of Taehyung’s lips. Taehyung gives a startled gasp, but curls his fingers in Jeongguk’s shirt, pulling him close, noses bumping when Jeongguk can’t help but smile.

Jeongguk wonders why he didn’t do this earlier. Taehyung tastes better than anything he has ever baked, sweeter than sugar, more decadent than melted chocolate, warm, addictive and perfect.

Taehyung pulls back, and smiles so wide his eyes disappear into moon-like crescent. “God I could kiss you forever,” Jeongguk breathes out against Taehyung’s lips. Unfortunately, their moment is ruined by the loud “FUCK YES!” that Jimin screeches from the other side of the room, pumping his arm into the air. “Jongup! You owe me 26 smoothies and 12 bowls of froyo, Namjoon you owe me 30,000 won. I’m rich now motherfuckers!”

Taehyung only shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says.

Jeongguk huffs an amused laugh, and tilts Taehyung’s head up for another light kiss. “You don’t need to apologize for Jimin’s stupidity.”

“No it’s not that,” Taehyung pulls at Jeongguk’s sweater. “I’m sorry I made you an ironic sweater.”

Jeongguk’s frowns. “Ironic sweater?”

“It was to reaffirm your love for me?” Taehyung’s smile is coy as he bats lightly at his chest.

Jeongguk’s mouth drops open. “Oh my god, oh my god. You idiot. I don’t know why I even like you.”

“Merry Christmas?” Taehyung leans in to giggle those words against Jeongguk’s lips.

Jeongguk can’t help but smile, and pulls Taehyung close. “It’s December the 6th.” He sighs and Taehyung’s laughter is warm and sweet against his chest.

 


	28. You're a masterpiece (I'm the big buyer) - yoonmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: nc-17  
> Summary: yoonmin sugar daddy and morning sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write a lot of morning sex I get it ;^;

"You’re so good to me.”

It’s something Yoongi says often, into the skin of Jimin’s shoulders, eyes dotted with the flutters of sleep. He whispers it between trembling thighs and lips open in slight moans. He murmurs it into the darkness, between shaking skin and nails digging into his hips hard enough to bruise, where the words twist into a litany of gasps.

After all it’s true. Jimin was perfect, always perfect for him. Pretty smiles, and crinkled eyes and that desire to please.

Yoongi’s had others in the past, all pretty of course, good with their mouths and hands, eyes flashing at what Yoongi can offer: golden pillows, glittering coins and pretty gifts. It was fun at first, sex is always fun. Until it isn’t. Until boredom itches at his skin when pretty faces suck him off, eyes glazed, only coming alive at the pretty pink bows and diamond necklaces dripping across pale throats.

When you were rich, you could have the world. But maybe Yoongi didn’t want that.

Then there was Jimin.

He’s seen pleasure. But he hasn’t seen this. The way Jimin blooms under him when he touches, like he forgets about glittering coins and sparkling champagne and only remembers Yoongi’s fingers and hands and the taste of his mouth, when he moans it like he wants it, craves it and needs it. Like those words were for Yoongi and Yoongi alone.

“It’s beautiful,” Jimin sighs. But he isn’t looking at the sleek screen of his new phone. His eyes are fixed on Yoongi, and the dark purple of the marks littering his neck.

“You’re so gross,” Yoongi replies, plucking the phone out of his hand, before pushing Jimin into the bed, smirking in satisfaction when his slight giggles turn into moans.

God, Yoongi wanted to reward him. But the problem, was he didn’t know how to. Yoongi was used to giving, all the money, food, materialistic desires that was easy as swiping a card and seeing his partner’s face light up. Jimin wasn’t like that though. He gives because he wants to, and that in itself awes Yoongi.

This boy deserves more. Yoongi thinks as he watches the beautiful way he arches, the beautiful way his fingers clench against the sheets, the beautiful way he comes for Yoongi, and only Yoongi. His skin is marked an angry red, where Yoongi has bitten, where his nails have scraped, marks that mean ‘you are mine, and mine alone.’

Yoongi had always loved beautiful things. Money can only buy you so much beauty though. And the beauty money bought was fake and manufactured. But Jimin? Jimin was something else. Mornings were always the best. They were slow, clumsy and downright lazy. Blurred at the edges and absolutely fucking perfect.

Jimin’s feet are always freezing, no matter how many different electrical blankets Yoongi buys. And that wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t so goddamn cuddly all the time. He scoots up right against Yoongi’s shoulders, until the two are teetering dangerously over the massive king bed. Today is no different, and Yoongi wakes up to arms dangling over the edge of the bed, the warmth of Jimin spooned against the small of his back, his cold feet pressed against his calves.

Yoongi blinks the sleep away from his eyes, yawns and turns around to see Jimin staring at him, mouth curved into a smirk.

“Took you long enough,” Jimin mumbles, sliding his hands under Yoongi’s shirt.

Yoongi burrows down into the covers, swatting Jimin’s wandering hands away. “Fuck off you horny shit, I want to sleep.”

Jimin makes a noise of protest, pressing slight insistent kisses against Yoongi’s shoulders, teeth scraping enough to draw the slight stirs of arousal. “C’mon hyuuuung,” Jimin says, grinning when Yoongi’s arches at the scrape of nails across his abdomen.

They’re already naked, and there’s a satisfying ache to his muscles and a pretty constellation of marks across Jimin’s neck from last night. So it’s easy for Jimin to move, pushing Yoongi unto the bed, hips grinding down. Yoongi’s barely awake, pleasure blooms lazily across his stomach, enough for him to breathe Jimin’s name.

“Wake up, wake up,” Jimin grins, leaning in to nip at Yoongi’s nose.

“Mm, I’m awake.” Yoongi groans, swatting as Jimin laughs,

“Then kiss me.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, but complies, running his hands over the bruises littering Jimin’s chest and then to pull him into a kiss.

“I’m going to do more than just kiss you.” Yoongi breathes into Jimin’s mouth. That’s all the warning Jimin gets before he is pushed off, so Yoongi can straddle him. Jimin laughs, wide and wonderful, arching his hips up for Yoongi to touch and take.

His grin is teasing. “Are you going to fuck me?”

Yoongi fingers skate over trembling thighs and bruised skin. “Maybe.”

Jimin pouts. “Please?”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me hyung,” Jimin answers, short and casual.

“But I’m-” Yoongi grins his hips down, smooth and sharp. “I’m tired.”

“I know,” Jimin says, thighs wrapping around Yoongi’s back. “I can ride you.”

Yoongi ends up being pushed into the head board, while Jimin settles between pale thighs, decorated with last nights marks, red and black and blue, startling so against the milky white of his skin. Jimin is always teasingly slow, dragging his tongue against Yoongi’s thighs, grazing nails against his stomach, until Yoongi is squirming, pulling Jimin’s chin up to glare at him.

“Just suck me off or let me fuck you already,” Yoongi growls.”Or else…”

“Or else?” Jimin smirks.

“You’re not getting your paycheck then,” Yoongi huffs.

Jimin laughs. “You know I don’t care about that.” Yoongi knows that. But it still makes warmth spread across Yoongi’s chest, heady and deliciously addicting. He doesn’t get the chance to reply though, because Jimin’s mouth is on him, reducing his train of thought into a messy gasp of his name.

Jimin’s mouth can do amazing things, can reduce Yoongi, sharp, powerful Yoongi into a mess of nothing but pleasure, fire and desire. But when he pulls off Yoongi’s cock, with a wet pop, and litters kisses up his stomach; when he grinds forward, when he pulls Yoongi’s hair back to kiss his neck, when he sinks onto Yoongi cock, mouth dropping open in a dirty moan, like it was everything he ever craved and wanted and needed, all Yoongi can do is exhale shakily, because all the words in the world cannot describe the fierce desire and need against his skin.

Yoongi wasn’t so sleepy anymore. The pleasure was sharp and sweet, and why would you keep your eyes closed when there was beauty so breathtaking? The way the red of his mouth curled, the way pleasure etched itself onto his body, beauty pure and wonderful and completely breathtaking.

Jimin rides Yoongi slowly, teasingly slowly. It is the slow roll of hips, drawing soft gasps, the lazy, clumsy kisses, and tangled fingers. But Jimin is expectant, lips curving into a teasing smirk when he knows Yoongi would not be able to resist.

Yoongi doesn’t have the patience for slow fucks.

It isn’t long before Yoongi does move, wrapping a hand around Jimin’s hips to push him back, and fuck him properly. Jimin is open for him, thighs trembling, fingers shaking, chest heaving for Yoongi to fuck and take. So he takes.

When Yoongi wants, he is merciless. When Yoongi wants, he gets. He fucks Jimin hard and fast, and Jimin only smirks through the haze of pleasure, holds Yoongi’s gaze, mouth open in mindless pleasure and need.

Jimin was so good to him.

“Are you going to come without me touching you?” Yoongi says between short, sharp thrusts. “Are you?”

Jimin can barely form thoughts let alone words, “I want-”

“Tell me.”

“Let me come hyung,” Jimin breathes, eyes fluttering shut. “Please.”

Yoongi curls over Jimin, pressing an open mouthed kiss against trembling lips. “Then come for me babe.”

Jimin gives a breathless smile, scrapes his nails across Yoongi’s back and arches his hips forward to rub against Yoongi’s stomach, leaving the sticky white of pre cum to stain against smooth skin.

“C’mon babe,” Yoongi murmurs, as his thrusts quicken, and messy moans spill from Jimin’s mouth. “I said,” Yoongi pulls back slowly, before thrusting back in. “Come for me.”

“Yes hyung.” Jimin says, soft and breathless. And then he’s arching his neck back, hips tilting up as the orgasm rocks through his body, curling up his stomach and blooming into snatched moans of Yoongi’s name. Yoongi rides him through it, thrusts unrelenting, nails digging harsh into the curve of his hips.

It isn’t long before he comes either. How could you not at that sight? Warmth spills into Jimin, sticky sweet and heated. Yoongi likes coming into Jimin, likes the way the smell of sex lingers on his skin, a reminder that something so beautiful was his. He collapses onto Jimin’s chest in ragged breaths and shaky exhales, holding Jimin’s cheek to press another kiss before leaning back to pull out.

“Not yet,” Jimin sighs, voice husky. “I like feeling you inside me.”

Yoongi laughs. “I can’t be inside you forever babe.”

Jimin’s eyes flutter closed. “Not yet.” Is all he says.

When Yoongi pulls does pull out a few minutes later, Jimin sighs, apparently a sated mess on the sheets, barely able to string a coherent sentence. Yoongi smiles and bundles Jimin into his arms. He lolls forward, breath soft against Yoongi’s shoulders.

There’s a few moments of gentle silence, while Yoongi cleans them up, wiping the come from their skin. Jimin curls against Yoongi’s side, eyelids fluttering, movements lazy and clumsy. They end up curled against the edge of the bed, Jimin cradled in Yoongi’s arms.

“I fuck you good don’t I?” Yoongi says, pressing a kiss against Jimin’s shoulders.

“Mm,” Jimin slumps forward, the soft kisses that he dots against Yoongi’s skin are sluggish and sated. Yoongi presses his mouth atop the crown of his head, and although his hands were harsh against his hips moment ago, now they are gentle, soft and sweet as they brush across his hair.

“Babe, you okay?” Yoongi asks.

Jimin blinks up at him, smiles but doesn’t move, burying his face into the arch of Yoongi’s shoulder. “M’hurts,” he mumbles.

Yoongi’s heart clenches in his chest. Because, how did rich fuck boy Yoongi get something so fucking precious and adorable in his bed? The universe was too kind to him.

Yoongi drapes the blanket atop Jimin’s shoulders, who yawns in response. He shivers as Yoongi’s fingers skate down the slope of his neck, across his collarbones, pressing feather light touches to the bruises.

“Was I too hard on you?” Yoongi asks, as Jimin huddles into the blanket.

“No,” Jimin smiles with a wrinkle of his nose. “Besides I like it when you’re hard.”

“You’re so…” Yoongi says, threading fingers through Jimin’s hair. “-fucking adorable you know that.”

“Thanks old man,” Jimin teases. “You’re pretty cool too I guess.”

Yoongi snorts, flicking Jimin in the forehead. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“So demanding,” Jimin sighs, but leans in to peck Yoongi on the lips.

Yoongi frowns. “Is that it? More.”

Jimin laughs, but complies, tilting his head to press an open-mouthed kiss against Yoongi’s pout. Yoongi smiles against messy kisses, hand reaching to press against his cheek, relishing in the barest gasps and squirms. God, he could kiss Jimin forever.

Jimin responses are always so eager, so it isn’t long before the kisses turn into sharp bites, and nails scraping across Yoongi’s back.

“Hey, hey,” Yoongi gasps between kisses, as Jimin surges forward fingers scrabbling against pale shoulders. “We just went, and-” Jimin’s teeth scrape across his collarbones. “You’re…ah!”

Jimin merely moans in response, and pulls Yoongi on top of him.

Yoongi could drown in Jimin, the way he opens and closes for him, the way he tastes and smells. The way he responds; deliciously intoxicating. It’s so easy for Yoongi to lose himself in the taste of Jimin’s skin, and it isn’t until he hears the soft whine of pain that Yoongi moves back, eyes fluttering open.

“Shit Jimin,” Yoongi sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Why the fuck are you so horny?”

Jimin scrunches his nose cutely. “It hurts.”

Yoongi sighs, leaning in to press a kiss on his forehead. “Sorry babe. Do you want water?”

“I want ice cream.” Jimin demands petulantly.

“Yeah, and last time you got melted ice cream all over the sheets.”

Jimin’s grin is small and sly. “Not my fault you wanted to lick it off my stomach.

Yoongi’s mouth drops open, before he sighs, shaking his head. “I’ll make you some tea. Ice cream’s going to give you a stomach ache.”

Jimin huffs. “But I want ice cream.”

Yoongi brushes the hair from Jimin’s forehead, and can’t help but smile. “I’ll make you hot chocolate, deal?”

“Deal, if we get to cuddle.” Jimin replies.

“Fine, you’re a demanding brat you know that right?” But there’s no heat to his words, only a soft affection masked by exasperation.

After Jimin is bundled warmly into a blanket burrito, steaming hot chocolate in his hands, they end up in a warm mess under the slight shine of the television. Yoongi admires the bloom of red and blue across Jimin’s skin as they watch the shitty morning news. An ice cream bowl is discarded on the floor, melted and messy. They both choose to ignore it in favor of sipping the hot chocolate, and gentle kisses that taste sickly sweet.

Yoongi runs fingers through Jimin’s hair, bringing him in to plant a kiss on his nose.

“Feel better?” He says, quiet enough that Jimin almost misses it.

“Better,” Jimin replies. And Yoongi sighs in relief, pressing his mouth into his hair.


	29. Up to My Neck in You - yoonmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg  
> summary: FLUFF also based on this prompt  
> Imagine Person A holding Person B while laying in bed. Person A kisses Person B’s forehead, thinking Person B is asleep. Just before Person A gives Person B another kiss, Person B turns and their lips touch. Bonus if Person A is blushing.

Yoongi should be sleeping. He really should be. Their schedule was going to be hectic tomorrow, and dance practice was at the asscrack of dawn am. Yet here he is, eyes wide open, with no intention of closing soon.

This was all Jimin’s fault--the stupidly adorable fluff ball that was currently curled in Yoongi’s arms, hair a flurried mess, cheek mushed cutely against the pillow, breath soft and sweet against Yoongi’s chest; and Yoongi just can’t look away.

 _He was beautiful,_ and Yoongi’s lips shapes the sentence in mocking, half formed words. He never was one for grand gestures, never one for uttering words out in all its physicality, like they were what needed to prove something, to prove that they mattered and they loved. But Jimin already knows, an understanding that doesn’t need to be voiced out. Yoongi can show it better than anything; so he does. With lips that leave imprints for days and days on end, words breathed into skin like lyrics, like art.

Loving Jimin was like an exhale, soft and soothing. It feels like the warmth of Jimin’s breath against his cheek, the slight flutters of his eyelashes when he sleep. Loving Jimin was comfortable. Love Jimin was gentle. And Yoongi doesn’t ever really want to let this go.

Jimin is the one vulnerable here. He’s the one asleep, bundled in Yoongi embrace, nose pressed into his chest. Yet, even if Jimin’s eyes are closed, Yoongi feels like he’s wide open, bare and helpless. Vulnerability was a given at night, but Yoongi doesn’t like how open he is, heartstrings just there for Jimin to tie up and tangle in his fingers. He hates it, he hates it, but Jimin is soft and doesn’t ever hurt him, even if he could. So Yoongi lets him. 

Jimin  gives a small snuffle in his sleep, and Yoongi holds him close, lips skimming over his hair. He blames it on the night, he blames it on the warmth of Jimin against him, he blames it on his beauty, and he blames it on them, for what they created against the world.

“I love you,” Yoongi mumbles, ever so quiet as he drops a kiss atop Jimin’s forehead.

Jimin stirs a little, and Yoongi smiles, affectionate and shy, before he decides to press one last good night kiss. But at the last moment, Yoongi see’s Jimin’s eyes open, bright and beautiful before his head flicks up and their lips touch in the barest brush.

Jimin’s eyes are crinkled when he smiles likes the stars that shine outside their bedroom window.

Yoongi pauses. His lips unmoving against Jimin's, realization dawning, just as he can feel the slow blush paint his neck and ears a brilliant red. Jimin laughs when Yoongi lurches back, giving a loud“Ah!”, only managing to not tumble off the bed when he scrabbles at the sheets.

Jimin grins cheekily, reaching over to hold Yoongi’s face, cheek burning red hot under his fingers. “I love you too,” The words are loud and clear and utterly sweet. Yoongi can feel warmth blooms across his chest, unspoken words caught like the breath in his throat. 

Jimin smiles, and it’s happiness and love, wild, beautiful and completely careless. “I love you, I love you, I love _you!_ ” Jimin says again and again. The words leave Yoongi breathless for a second, that is before Jimin leans in again, breathing the life back into him with a kiss.

-

“Say it again!”

“No, go to sleep Jimin.”

“Please?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“Fine hyung. Good night.”

When Yoongi is absolutely sure Jimin is asleep, he opens one eyelid and murmurs a very soft. “Love you.”

“I heard that.” 

_“When will you actually fucking sleep?!”_


	30. sugar sweet -taegi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it could have gone worse.

In hindsight, it could probably have gone way worse than it did.

Jimin blames it on his stupid, stomach. To be fair, they did have an extra tedious dance practice that night, and even after the copious amount of chicken wings Taehyung had snuck into the dorm, Jimin finds himself woken by the rumbling of his stomach. The clock flashes a red 3:23am, and Jimin tries to go back to sleep, but to no avail. His stomach whines and whines until Jimin finally throws off his covers and rolls out of bed.

“Fine, fine,” Jimn gives a sleepy pat atop his stomach, as he slowly shuffles towards the kitchen. He’s still blinking away sleep, so he nearly misses that there are people in the kitchen already, nearly. If not for the fact, one of them is completely shirtless, and their faces seem to be smushed together.

Huh.

It takes one, two and three seconds, before Jimin’s sleep addled brain can process this.

Shirtless guy is Taehyung. Kim Taehyung. His best friend who is currently face smushing, no, wait kissing. On the lips, no with tongue! And said tongue was down-which is when Jimin screeches-MIN FUCKING YOONGI’S THROAT.

And thank the lord, Yoongi was still sufficiently clothed, with hands where they could be seen, otherwise Jimin would had burnt his eyes out right there and then. Thankfully, his screeching is enough to break the two apart, and Jimin stumbles back when Taehyung turns to him, horror and embarrassment almost hiding the bright blush painting his cheeks and neck, pink.

Taehyung coughs.

Jimin squeaks.

“It’s not what it looks like?” Taehyung tries weakly.

Yoongi smirks from behind Taehyung. “It’s exactly what it UMFRGH-” His words are cut off when Taehyung’s hands move to muffle them.

“No! We can explain.”

“Can you please put on a shirt first, and Yoongi please…” Jimin exhales shakily. “-Stop touching my best friends butt?!”

Taehyung burrows his face into his shirt with an embarrassed groan, while Yoongi can’t help but smirk, and has the audacity to squeeze said butt, before letting go.

“Why me!” Jimin wails, making his way towards the room again, hoping sleep might wipe away all unwanted memories. Well, not before quickly sniping a few cold chicken wings, resolutely not looking at them, because to makes matters worse, his stomach was rumbling the whole time during this ordeal.

Well it really could have gone worse. At least he didn’t see any unwanted dicks or hands in places they shouldn’t be and- great, now those are images Jimin definitely doesn’t want to fall asleep to.

-

Jimin’s unexplained screeching at 3am in the morning, has to be explained over a ‘meeting’, with pancakes from the wonderful Kim Seokjin, to ease the matter at hand. Or the matter of Yoongi’s hand on Taehyung’s butt. Really.

Seokjin is really quite menacing when he wants to be, even when holding a spatula dripping with pancake batter.

“Care to explain yourselves?” He smiles. It’s sweet, but the menacing aura from him completely contradicts that. Taehyung is shovelling pancakes in his mouth to keep from talking, and Yoongi just looks bored. Jimin still looks uncomfortable. There are smudged, black circles under his eyes.

“Well, um it started last year-” Taehyung starts hesitantly.

“LAST YEAR?” Jeongguk pipes up. “That explains your bathroom trips, oh god don’t tell me-”

“Jeongguk no!” Jimin wails.

Hoseok eyes the table warily. “Did you ever on this table?.”

“We eat here!” Jimin’s wails grow louder.

“Look,” Yoongi finally says, not looking up from where he is, stabbing at his pancake. “I love him and he loves me, is that enough?”

Silence envelops the table like thick, suffocating fog. The only sound is the bubbling of the pancakes as they cook, and at this rate, they are probably going to get burnt.

Taehyung is the first to break the silence. “You… what?”

Realization dawns on Yoongi’s face, moments before red brushes across his cheeks, and he shoves a pancake into his mouth, mumbling nonsense around it.

“Oh.” Seokjin mutters. Something smells like it’s burning. “Well that changes everything.”

-

It’s Taehyung and it’s Yoongi, and to be honest, no one in a million years could see such polar opposites together. So for the first few weeks, no one knows what to expect. Jimin keeps side eyeing, skirting around the two, expecting an explosion of PDA. The others are cautious, but curious. What would a loving Yoongi look like? How does love bloom between long hours and the flurry of idol life?

But what Bangtan gets is something else entirely. 

The first thing Namjoon notices is that Taehyung, wild, carefree Taehyung acts as a calamity, the soothing wind to Yoongi’s vicious storms.

In the studio, when it’s just Namjoon and Yoongi, he’s the epitome of perfectionism, concentration and bouts of stress mixed with music notes and winding lyrics. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes and ears never leaving his laptop, until late, late at night.

He’s tight strung, eyes cast away. He’s drawn away, lost in lyrics, and the beautiful nonsensical ways of youth and fame. No one dares approach him like this.

But Taehyung breaks the shell with a simple touch and a gentle laugh. Namjoon sees this with sleepy eyes, earphones slung at his neck. There’s the delicious smell of takoyaki, the flashing of the clock: 4am, one quick kiss against his cheek, and like snow, under a brilliant sun, Yoongi melts into Taehyung’s arms. Tension easing with one quick, breathy kiss that Namjoon almost misses. 

“Taehyung.” It’s meant to sound annoyed, but Taehyung, and even Namjoon do not miss, the warming curls of affection masked by the sleepy flutter of his eyelids.

And Yoongi’s eyes are closed so he can’t see. But Namjoon can, observing with a quiet curiosity. Taehyung is soft, eyes, hands, lips gentle.

“Go to sleep,” Taehyung smiles, and then turns to Namjoon, startling him. “You too Joonie.”

“Ah,” Namjoon says, standing up abruptly. Yoongi’s eyes open, and his expression flickers between tedium and something else. “I’ll go first, good night guys.”

“Good night hyung!” Taehyung grins, and Yoongi nods at him, a small smile curling at his lips. Namjoon doesn’t miss the way how easily he fits into Taehyung’s arms and hands.

“Huh,” Namjoon mumbles into the breathy white of the night. It was only a few minutes, short and simple. It wasn’t particularly intricate, instead, simple, sweet, and beautiful, like the clarity of teardrops. And Namjoon can’t help but smile at the simplicity of sweetness. 

-

Jeongguk notices a carefree friendship and a childlike innocence, between phone calls and stupid little texts. 

Taehyung’s grinning at his phone again, eyes bright with laughter.

Jeongguk narrows his eyes, and pokes Taehyung’s cheek. “Whatchu looking at?” He asks, when curiosity finally gets the better of him.

Taehyung shakes his head, chest shaking with laughter. Before he shows Jeongguk his phone. It’s a cat with a hat. Literally just a ginger cat with a small top hat, eyes wide and adorable.

“Huh,” Jeongguk replies.

“Are you soulless, it’s a cat! In a hat! The internet wins!” Taehyung gasps, and swipes to another cat with a hat. It’s an octopus hat this time, and it makes Taehyung stifle a laugh and Jeongguk can’t help but smile.

Taehyung ends up showing his whole cat with a hat collection, which is surprisingly long, with many different cats and many, many different hats.

Jeongguk laughs when Taehyung shows him a fat cat with a frog cap, before poking Taehyung in the stomach. “How the hell do you find these? Is there a blog?”

Taehyung wrinkles his nose. “I don’t know. Maybe? Yoongi sends them to me when I’m sad.”

Jeongguk blinks, and Taehyung turns to stare at him, head tilted. “That’s really-” Cute. “Gross.”

A pillow whips Jeongguk in the face before he can even react. “I show you my cat with a hat collection and this is what you say?! You ungrateful shi-” His speech is cut off with a pillow to his face, making him topple back onto the bed, while Jeongguk stands over him triumphantly, pillow in hand.

“At least it wasn’t dick picks,” Jeongguk mumbles to himself, just before he nearly gets strangled by three oncoming pillows.

-

Hoseok considers himself one of Yoongi’s greatest friends. Hoseok is also pretty sure Yoongi is not into PDA, and hates spooning. (I mean, he never lets Hoseok spoon when they watch Kdramas, so his hypothesis is pretty educated)

Well, it’s not like Yoongi loves PDA per see. It’s just that he’s pretty fucking comfortable. Or more comfortable, than flailing on the sofa when Hoseok tries to spoon during their movie nights.

Taehyung is eagar, like a little puppy, lolling tongue, wagging tail and all. And Yoongi barely bats on eyelash, when the second he walks through the door, Taehyung barrels through the door to envelop him in a hug, in front of the door, like it was the most natural thing in the world. That is until Jimin starts flailing wildly from the doorway.

“Guys?” Jimin says, trying to edge through the hug fest, from where he’s stuck at the door. “I really need to pee.”

“Missed you,” Taehyung grins.

Yoongi resolutely does not look at him, but his eyelids flutter, and no one misses the slight smile, and blush brushing his cheeks a soft, beautiful red. 

“I’m seriously going to pee my pants!” Jimin yells before forcibly pushing the two apart, and dashing to the toilet.

“That shit was something right out of a fanfic,” Hoseok mutters to himself, making his way towards the kitchen, and rummaging through the cupboards until he finds his beloved cookie stash. Who needs a cute relationship when you have cookies. Right? RIGHT?!

-

Yoongi is definitely not a morning person. Most definitely. He only starts responding after a cup of coffee and some eggs to get his brain up and whirring again. So really, he’s like a sleepy, helpless little puppy. A puppy who is very much in love with Taehyung.

Breakfasts are usually quite rowdy, after all, a group of hungry, messy boys and delicious fluffy eggs? They were bound to make a mess, leaving Seokjin exasperated, and guilt tripping the others to help him pack the hurricane of a mess, before they leave.

So no one, notices Yoongi waddle in, except Seokjin who greets him a with a warm “Good morning!” To which he gets a half hearted grunt in reply to.

With a poke of his foot, Yoongi makes Namjoon shove over so he can sit, he blinks down at the eggs in his post sleep haze, before shaking his head and with a small nope, crashes his head back down, right on Taehyung’s lap. Taehyung barely stirs, giving a small pat on Yoongi’s bed hair, before resuming shoveling eggs into his mouth at an alarming rate.

And Seokjin watches this, while all of Bangtan just seem to accept it. Taehyung’s hand is in Yoongi’s hair, and he snores, like it was a normal sight to see.

And really, it was. No one bats an eye, when Yoongi curls in Taehyung’s lap. They teased him at first, but Yoongi only gave a few glares and literally zero fucks. In the past few months, Taehyung and Yoongi in a relationship, and Taehyung and Yoongi not, were not that different. After all, they banter lightly together, and hold hands, and sleep more than they kiss and-

“Holy shit,” Seokjin says, his eggs are burning, but his realization is more important. “They’re an old married couple.”

Taehyung grins down at Yoongi, when he stirs from his slight haze of a nap. “Mrrgh.” is the first thing out of Yoongi’s mouth. 

“Coffee is right here, lil cold, but should be okay,” Taehyung answers warmly.

“Mm,” Yoongi smiles, lazy and crooked. Sitting up, when Taehyung hands him the cup.

“Love you too.”

“So fucking gross.” Jeongguk mimes making a gagging action.

“Agreed,” Jimin shakes his head. “We’re eating breakfast here?”

Taehyung pokes their tongue out at them, and Yoongi, the little teasing shit that he is, flashes them a smirk before kissing Taehyung straight on the mouth. 

‘GROSS!”

“I’M LEAVING!”

“Why don’t I have a boyfriend.” 

Seokjin laughs lightly. It was morning, in a messy dorm with messy boys and messy laughter. That hadn’t changed for years. And it was still Taehyung, and it was still Yoongi, both so different yet fit together so simply, so perfectly.

Nothing changed, not really. Only the little moments in between, gone in a blink of an eye.

-

There’s a shadow drawn across Jimin’s face. It doesn’t leave for a few days.

“Jimin?” Seokjin finally asks, concerned. “Are you okay?”

Jimin turns to him slowly, and Seokjin has never seen a more haunted look on him. “Seokjin,” He says slowly. “Burn my eyes out with your spatula please.”

Seokjin looks scandalized. “Huh?”

Jimin shakes his head, and wanders off mumbling something along the lines of ‘bottom’ and ‘yoongi.’

Seokjin raises his eyebrow, before whipping out his phone. Fingers texting rapidly as his grin widens. Now this was certainly news.

**Author's Note:**

> not posted in the order of when i wrote them hehe owo  
> and to anyone that actually read every drabble ive posted: i salute you <3  
> 


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